Asura

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

introduce a little pickle juice. upset the established order.
and everything becomes chaos.

---

Had Shiori not explained the situation to him the day prior, Ryusei might have had the same look of shock on his face as Shimizu did when the door slid open. As he stared down at his fellow transfer, he couldn't help but wonder why the hell she looked so baffled. Had her cousin not bothered to warn her he would be stopping by? He supposed it couldn't be helped. He tended to elicit negative reactions no matter where he went. At least she wasn't cowering behind the frame or threatening to call the cops or something, especially since he was sure she was privy to that god damn article in the paper. Thankfully, the awkward few seconds didn't linger, as the shorter girl processed what was going on.

"Thanks," He muttered in response as the door slid closed. He could make out a few voices behind it, but he didn't care enough to eavesdrop. It was good enough to know that his partner for the day was on her way to meet him. The sooner they got this over with, the better. When the door opened a second time, he was greeted with a more familiar face.

A face which caused him to fight back a grin. He wasn't the only one who agonized over what to wear, was he? Most girls his age wore at least a little makeup, that was true, but he hadn't caught as much as a hint on Shiori's face throughout the week. That absence made its presence now obvious, even for someone like him. Plus, she had gone out of her way to wear a skirt without the school forcing her. He wanted to make fun of her for it, honestly, but eventually decided against it. Hadn't he brooded over the idea of her doing the same to him just an hour or two prior?

"Hey. Don't worry about it, I don't mind." Her cousin wasn't exactly a priority of his in that moment. After working himself up on what to wear and how to present himself, he was relieved to see she had also put in a little work of her own. It deserved a comment of some kind.

"You look... nice" He eventually decided, his glower having softened just enough to impart some sincerity. He proceeded to lean to the side just a tad, as if to appraise her in her entirety, although he made no attempt to hide where his eyes went. It was a much shorter skirt, after all.

"Real nice. I approve."

He couldn't fight back the devilish grin that tugged at his features if he tried at that crack, even if he was too tall to glance much more than a little thigh. Content that the very implication would fluster her good and proper, he decided to turn back towards the street, his hands finding their way into the pockets of his jacket.

"Let's get going. I have no clue where this place is, so you'll have to lead the way."

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

introduce a little pickle juice. upset the established order.
and everything becomes chaos.

---

The sun rose above Utsubyo—although you could hardly tell with the incessant cloud cover—and with it, Ryusei as well. It was damn annoying to be up so early, especially on a Saturday of all things, but a week packed to the brim with both physical labor and emotional strain had left him dog tired. It certainly didn't help that he, predictably, was met with more work when he arrived home. Lugging around top soil and tearing weeds all evening sure as shit wasn't going to help him in the boxing ring for all his grandfather's insistence, but it did drain him of what little energy he had left to give, and after some quick takeout from the local Chinese place, he ended up drifting into to a well-earned sleep hours earlier than normal.

Then the interruption to his rest came, in the form of a text from the girl who had occupied much of his time since his arrival in town. It must have come in just shy of midnight, and he barely remembered reading it before rolling back into his blankets and sheets. A quick glance back at the device confirmed it hadn't just been a vague dream; she wanted to meet up at her house at one. So much for relaxing during his day off. It was all the same anyway, as he doubted his grandfather would just let him laze around the house all day. Having a young back around the place must have lit a flame under the old man's ass, and suddenly there was no end to the number of projects to be accomplished around the aging house that had been his home for as long as Ryusei could remember.

Why the hell his grandparents had bought such a big place was beyond him, especially in retirement. That was usually the time for downsizing, for making things more manageable. Instead, the place was half a god damn castle, complete with inner garden and way too many rooms. He admittedly enjoyed it when he was young—to an apartment dweller from the big city, going out to the countryside felt like visiting a palace with how spacious it was. But now that he was partially responsible for its upkeep, he almost missed the crowded little three bedroom back in Kobe. At least he could fit in the bathtub here.

Something he made sure to take advantage of. Between drills at the club, helping out around the house, and all the walking he needed to do to get anywhere out in the boonies, he was sore, and nothing helped melt away the tension like a good soak. Gramps had undoubtedly gone off to settle whatever affairs he had in town for the morning, so he could spend at least an hour boiling himself like a crab in a much too hot bath. It also gave him a chance to stew in his own thoughts as much as he stewed in the water, contemplating the day to come. He hadn't expected Shiori to take him up on his absentminded little comment so soon. Sure, she had no friends, but she really wanted to spend the weekend with him? They had just spent Friday together, and most of the lunch breaks of the week smoking out in the school parking lot. Then there was club, where they didn't so much interact as simply exist in each other's company.

Hadn't she gotten sick of him? He never made for very good company—even yesterday, he struggled to find anything interesting to say. Maybe she had some vague hope of getting him to pay for her food? Being some chick's meal ticket wasn't exactly on his agenda, especially when they weren't even an item. Of course, that line of thought led to him pondering whether she had gotten the wrong idea with his snarky little comments. They did seem to fluster her pretty thoroughly, which was half the reason he even made them in the first place. But he was the new 'ogre', as he had so kindly heard one of his classmates mutter in the halls. He doubted she'd want to make eyes at someone like him. Hell, half the girls back in Kobe were probably too terrified of him to approach, or reciprocate if he approached. Even his own parents didn't want him anymore; what hope did he have for finding some fairy tale, countryside fling during his exile?

As his thoughts continued to spiral, the joy of the bath was quickly lost. He knew there was a reason he didn't often allow himself to fall into silent contemplation, and it took until he allowed himself to sink into it for him to remember. It always came back to whining, self-deprecating bullshit. It pissed him off! There was shit to be done still, and he had a date to prepare for. Not a date. An outing. He needed to dry off and get ready.

Clothing? He hadn't brought much down with him when he left home. Just a few suitcases. The school had provided uniforms, and he didn't exactly have high hopes for his social life, so there wasn't anything fancy. Aside from his Church clothes, but he wasn't dressing up in his Sunday best for a fucking tea date. Not that it was a date. Still, he didn't want to look like a total bum when he showed up to her place. The girl had a sharp tongue, and he didn't need her mocking him for his choice of street wear. A nice t-shirt, some good jeans, his only pair of sneakers. The hoodie would need to come too; it was his favorite, big and comfortable and looked damn good on him, if he was so bold as to say.

It was only when he looked in the mirror that he realized he had been pondering for at least a couple minutes, and that only pissed him off more. Why did it matter what she thought? It was her idea to go. She was lucky he was putting aside time for her in the first place. A brief stomp off back to his room saw him dressed in record time. Then, it was back to the mirror. He needed to do something with his hair. He had let it grow out the last couple of years, to the point where it reached below his jawline when he left it down and damp as it was now. The school admins hated it, but that was half the point, really. There had been a compromise struck wherein if he kept it up during school hours, he could keep it at that length, and so he had kept it tied back for most of the week. That meant Shiori hadn't ever seen it let down. Did he really wanna leave it like that? It looked like a mop, long and silky but inexplicably wild despite that. Maybe she'd be into that? Or maybe she was one of those girls who liked a tidy man.

He spent another five minutes pulling it back and letting it down before irritation overtook him again. Who even fucking cared?! It didn't matter whether or not she liked his hair, it wasn't a fucking date, and if he had to put an iota more thought into how good he looked, he was going to kick his own ass. He eventually decided on a half-measure, pulled up into a ponytail with some messy locks left to spill out here and there. Messy, but just clean enough to look like he put in effort. Between it and the cold, disinterested eyes that stared back at him from the mirror, there was no way she would get his intentions mixed. Plus, he looked damn good. She'd be lucky if it were a date.

A few spritzes of cologne later and he felt better than he had back in the tub. It was a new day, it was still early, and he had plenty of time to leisurely retrace his steps to the Himawari household. He considered breakfast, briefly, but decided against it. They were going to a cafe, weren't they? He could just get something there. Something to help get the taste of the tea out of his mouth if it ended up sucking. He thumbed a few extra bills from the stack when he returned back to his room, figuring it was best to account for additional expenses. Most teens would have felt blessed to have a surplus of weekly cash on hand, but looking at the wad of paper in his hands only reminded him of what he had lost, and he tossed it back onto the windowsill where it had come, tucking a portion of his nest egg into his wallet for the day. He was ready.

Of course, as was so often the case, his plans hadn't gone off without a hitch. By the time he navigated the halls of his new home and got back out into the main room, his grandfather had returned, sitting at the low table in the center with the daily paper.

"Where you headed?" The older gentleman rumbled, not bothering to look up from his paper as he acknowledged his grandson's presence.

"Out," Ryusei answered tersely, although he thought better of the curtness in his voice after a moment, "Going to have tea with a friend."

"A girl friend." The response was quick to strike Ryusei just where it hurt, and he grimaced at the implication.

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to. I can smell you from over here. It's a girl."

The teen didn't justify that with a response. He hadn't put in any more effort getting ready than he would have with any of his boys. The hell was wrong with smelling good? He didn't even care whether or not she liked it—although he hadn't said a word, the whirl of his internal thoughts undoubtedly fulfilled the old man's ambition, and he could practically feel his grandfather grinning like a devil behind that paper.

"Whatever. I'll be back by dinner." There was an indignity in his tone that betrayed the flush growing on his cheeks, and he could only thank the Utsubyo Chronicle for being so engrossing as to hide that from his grandpa's eagle eyes as he stomped his way through the open shuji and into the yard beyond.

______________________

It was a small mercy that Shiori's house was a fair walk from his own. The cool spring afternoon gave him time to cool his head and his cheeks, and by the time he had arrived at the quaint little townhouse she called home, he was back to his usual self, all scowls and glares and bad attitude. Seeing it with the benefit of a full day's sun was interesting enough, as it gave him a better idea of her living situation—his family was in the business of real estate, after all. He knew it wasn't the house she had grown up in, but her aunt must have been pretty well off to afford rent on this place every month without struggling. Maybe she lived in a bigger city, where money came easier, but that only beggared why she would send her daughter out to this place for a school year. Had she done something wrong to warrant it?

He shook his head. He wasn't there for that ginger. He was there for Shiori, and a quick look at his phone informed him that it was getting dangerously close to one o'clock. So he trudged his way through the open front gates and to the door, rapping his knuckles against it to alert those within to his presence.

"C'mon already. I don't got all day."

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

introduce a little pickle juice. upset the established order.
and everything becomes chaos.

---

Ryusei hadn't honestly expected Shiori to throw herself at Machiba with such ferocity—wasn't he supposed to be the impulsive one? Sure, the kid had strolled up on them in the middle of a confrontation waving his phone around and declaring he'd call the police, but usually he at least gave people a warning before he proceeded to pummel them into the dirt. He supposed her paranoia was well founded enough, considering the front facing camera, and the fact only days earlier they had been victim of an unwanted series of creep shots. Taken by Nakano, who he only realized was no longer restrained a precious few seconds after the girl had made her mad dash to get away.

"You little cunt——"

He considered, briefly, running her down, or maybe just grabbing a nearby rock to bean her in the ass with. But to what end? Threats of violence and broken bones didn't seem to deter her. He'd have to find a way to hurt her elsewhere. If he didn't, he'd have to put up with her incessantly stalking him both inside and outside of school, and if his own disciplinary record was anything to go by, trying to involve any kind of authority would probably just see her promoted to head of the journalism club. As he ruminated on how to handle the Nakano issue, Shiori seemed to come to her senses, and came wandering over to him, looking bizarrely pathetic for someone who had just floored two of her classmates without too much in the way of resistance.

"It's fine. Whatever message you were trying to send wasn't gonna land with her anyway," He admitted, taking a last drag from his cigarette, "Still, woulda been nice to get a few more licks in before she scurried off. Karma, and all that."

With the last of his cigarette burning precariously close to his fingers, he flicked the still lit butt at Yun, and tucked his hands into his pockets. It was probably best to head home and get himself washed up before the old man realized he was back. Plus, the vibe had been thoroughly killed by their unwanted visitors, so he doubted there'd be much in the way of jovial discussion with his ginger companion. He turned to go, but as he did so, he spotted something in the grass. A pair of glasses, tragically left behind during their owner's hurried retreat. His initial instinct was to step on them. Just shatter them in a petty attempt to hurt the would-be journalist, in whatever small way he could. Glasses were expensive, and this town was pretty backwater. Maybe her folks would struggle to replace them, choosing between what few luxuries they could afford in this town and their daughter's sight.

As he lifted his foot to bring financial strain upon the Nakano household, he got a better idea. Instead, he reached down and gingerly scooped them up, folding the still outstretched arms inwards. They were of more use to him in tact, especially if he could pull off what he was thinking of. As he tucked them into his pocket, the teen turned back to Shiori.

"C'mon, I'll walk you home." He said, gesturing towards the park's exit with his neck before looking towards the only remaining interloper, "And don't you fuckin' follow, numb nuts, or I really will ass fuck you with that phone."

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

introduce a little pickle juice. upset the established order.
and everything becomes chaos.

---

Accent? The fuck did she mean accent? That was the pot calling the kettle black. He couldn't tell which offended him more, the egregiousness of her own butchered speech—was she from fucking Fukushima or something?—or the way she incessantly decided to show it off. Talk talk talk talk fucking talk. From the very second Shiori had laid hands on her collar the damn girl wouldn't shut the fuck up. Maybe he could have understood it, the panic of somebody facing down someone who could break them like a particularly flimsy stick, if it was just panicked pleading. But she wasn't here to plead for mercy. She was here to stir up more shit! Acting like she was doing them a favor, trying to spin the story in her favor. Oh, she might not have been a journalist yet, but she had the demeanor down pat. A slimy little parasite, looking to squirm its way out of the consequence of a good feeding.

He could practically feel the vein in his forehead throb as he listened and listened, the cigarette he had so gingerly plucked earlier hanging from his lips limp as he stared in a mixture of indignity and disbelief. When it became clear she had finally finished with her pitch, he reached up and seized it, took a deep, full breath that saw damn near a quarter of it flare to life then dissipate into ash, then held for a precious moment. He savored that moment, the calming buzz, helping cool his own burning temper to embers before he released it all in one long, drawn out stream.

Then, Yun arrived.

"Shut the FUCK up, Mashida!" Ryusei practically boomed, his anger with ever more ferocity as he jabbed the cigarette accusingly in his classmate's general direction. This wasn't about him, and it was a damn good thing it wasn't, or his fucking viewers would be receiving a thorough exploration of his colon. He then whirred back towards Kanna, cigarette trailing smoke as he pointed it at her.

"You too. You, you I don't like. Not at all. It's bad enough your dumb ass decided to ruin my fuckin' reputation day one of the school year. But then you show up trying to sell it to me like you did me a favor? The only person you did a favor for was yourself. I'm sure you or your club cronies have some bullshit excuse cooked up, 'oh, you deserved it, you needed to be punished' or 'poor Sakaguchi deserved justice'. Shit not even you believe. You don't care about exposing the truth, or justice, or whatever the fuck coat of paint you put on it to attract freshmen. You're a fuckin' vulture, looking for carrion to pick at 'til it's clean. You come here, and instead of just taking your fucking lumps for doing what you know was messed up," He thrust the smoking shaft at her a few more times as he emphasized his words, throwing ash all about the place as he did, "You try to worm your way out of an ass kicking by spinning what you were already gonna do to us like you're cutting us a break. I guaran-fucking-tee that regardless of whether or not you leave here with all your teeth, you'll be outside that club room, taking creep shots, covering the matches and putting whatever title you think will sell your shitty little paper all over them."

Perhaps realizing he had been doing exactly what he had lambasted her for doing in his mind just moments prior, he stopped his tirade to take another deep draw from the cancer stick between his fingers. Another cooling rush, although one he didn't let linger for as long, spewing smoke as he continued rather than give her a single inch to wriggle further during his exhale.

"You should be grateful, for the first time in your sad little life, for that hole between your legs. Because it's the only reason you aren't picking your teeth out of the mulch right now, you understand?" It was a rhetorical question. He had made peace with the fact that his threats weren't going to do much to deter her—he had not a single doubt in his mind that the cast she sported had been well earned, and despite its presence, she still went on to push her luck.

"A fate, I should note," He turned a second time, this time back to Yun, his cigarette swaying in the surfer's general direction animatedly as he continued to talk, "That you will not be spared if I catch so much of a fucking whiff of you filming this. I only hit Sakaguchi once. He got off light compared to what I'll do to you."

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

but when i say that one little rick will be pickled
well then everyone loses their minds

---

Fate was a funny thing. Sometimes it could be cruel, orchestrating events so that on your very first day, with your very fresh start, things align to see you plastered all over some shitty school paper. Marked as a pariah for the rest of the year over one little outburst. But, then it could be hilarious. Like how it was right now. How in the hell did that little twerp think it was a good idea to approach them? He hadn't even had the chance to so much as say a word before Shiori went bounding over at the pint sized reporter, who he recalled as the little voyeur perched behind the dumpsters.

Perhaps it was best he said nothing; the redhead's yelling was sure to drown out whatever poison he wanted to spit the girl's way to begin with. He watched with vague interest as the delinquent drove her forehead into the other girl's face, reaching down with one arm to fish the yet unopened pack from Shiori's bag. He cracked the plastic surrounding it, peeling it off just enough to expose the box so he could fish out one of the cylinders within. Maybe not good manners to open a second before the first was done, but he was almost positive Shiori would finish both packs before next Friday anyway, so he felt little guilt as he stuck one of the cigarettes between his lips. He tossed the pack back into her bag, only then meandering over to where the two girls were grappled.

"I distinctly remember telling you not to do whatever the fuck it was you were doing," He piped as he came to a stop a few feet away, digging his lighter free from his other pocket. He cupped his hand over the tip of his evening vice as the flames sparked up and set it alight, pulling wisps of smoke through the filterless tube to help the ember stick. "But it looks like you didn't listen. You that eager to lose another arm?"

He exhaled as he spoke, a cloud of harsh vapor drifting about his field of view as he glanced down at the would-be reporter. His gaze then drifted to the much taller hoodlum who had been his companion for the day. He almost felt bad about watching them tussle. Almost. But when he remembered Nakano was the reason he'd spent the last four days busting his hump at the gym and at home, well, he suddenly felt that the welt between her eyes wasn't quite karma enough.

"You can keep hittin' her, you know. I think I'd flatten her if I took a swing, so get in a few for me."

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

i'm running out of things to say.
did i ever have anything worth saying to begin with?

---

"You're being surprisingly merciful for a violent delinquent. Shouldn't you be busting down their mailboxes or something?" Ryusei asked, although it was more of a rhetorical to stall for time while he fished his phone out of his back pocket. He hadn't had much use for the damn thing in times recent—aside from a few cordial texts to his mother and the odd phone call to gramps, there was virtually no reason for him to even have it. Sure, he could have tried keeping in touch with his friends back in Kobe, but he wasn't making the trip back there any time soon. It would just be awkward to exchange meaningless nothings in a vain attempt to maintain some kind of long distance friendship. It was almost funny, to have what barely passed as a good mood to be soured by something as simple as pulling out a phone, but that was just the state he found himself in.

Lost connections be damned, he raffled off his number shortly thereafter, and made sure to ask for Shiori's in return; he couldn't let her have all the power when it came to making contact, after all. Once he had received the required digits and punched them into his phone under the flattering title of 'Firecrotch', he slipped the device right back from whence it came. Maybe it was all the talking that was getting to him, but sitting around on a much too small swing in the middle of nowhere was making him stir crazy. He kicked up off the ground, putting himself back on two feet with one swift lunge. As he thrust his arms into the air and stretched them to void himself of tension, he spoke again.

"I'm gonna lose my mind if we sit here whining all day. You got anything left to do? Or should we start walking home?"

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

and then he turned himself into a pickle.
funniest shit i've ever seen.

---

"Fuck me, the Pick-Land's still around? I remember picking cherries there as a little kid. Well, I say little, I was already my gram's size by then, but still." There it was again. He could practically feel the corners of his lips curling at the mention, and he had to fight down the urge to grin like an idiot at the memory, lest he lose any and all cred he had managed to garner with the redhead. Still, the nostalgia of the few good summer he had, back when he wasn't as much of a hulking loser, they almost made things bearable. He'd need to go back at some point, pick some fruit and get some of that gelato he remembered liking. He didn't exactly have anyone to go with, unfortunately, but maybe that would change. He was sure Hattori would volunteer readily if he mentioned anything vaguely food related.

"You should bring me along to the cafe one of these days. Never had boba tea before. Always seemed kinda frilly," He offered, figuring it was a hell of a lot less embarrassing than bringing up how badly he wanted to go fucking apple picking. Plus, it would give him an excuse to leave the house, something he sorely needed, considering the grueling manual labor and silent brooding that had made up much of his stay in town.

"Unless you've got someone on your shit list and wanna go bust in some windows. That'd also be fun, I guess."

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

he didn't say it. not even once during the whole thing.
why would they lie about it like that? when will it be morbin' time?

---

As he listened to Shiori recount her family life, he couldn't help but feel a little bit bad. He supposed it did make sense she would have it rough at home—most people who bore the label delinquent didn't exactly come from good situations. God only knew what kind of person he himself would have turned out to be if his folks had been there for him more often. Hell, by compare, his home life was probably more bearable than hers; coming home to an empty house day after day beat coming home to someone screaming in your face for something you didn't even do. Usually when he got torn down, he definitely did something to deserve it. Regardless, her sad little tale managed to soften his expression just enough to render his scowl down to a melancholy frown.

"Sorry to hear that," He offered, as if his meaningless platitudes would make up for it, "Sounds like it's pretty rough around there."

At least she had managed to escape the situation, for however many fleeting months or years it would last. Her sudden confession of the future took him by surprise just a little. He couldn't honestly imagine the chain smoking, potty mouthed redhead being particularly nurturing, let alone being a nurse of all things. But he had already hit her pretty hard by bringing up her folks, and he didn't want to kick the poor girl while she was down. Plus, it wasn't like he had any plans at all, much less plans for an ill-fitting career. Luckily, she was quick to push them along to another topic. One which he had a positive spin to put on to boot.

"Yeah, I have. Used to go on day trips to Kagoshima with my grandparents, back when I'd come down here to visit. My grandma would make a habit of taking me to the aquarium whenever I came." He had to fight back the urge to smile while he reminisced. His grandmother had always made sure to make him comfortable during his little vacations, and growing up, the way she tried to make him feel special and wanted was something he sorely needed. Something he sorely missed even now—he could only wonder how much more tolerable her presence would make his current, lengthy stay in Utsubyo. But that trail of thought only led to wistfulness and gloom, and if there was one thing he didn't need more of, it was the fucking gloom.

"But enough about that. We aren't in Kagoshima, so waxing on about how fun it is there isn't gonna do us any damn good. What's there to do around here? It can't be all shitty conbinis and laundromats. What do you do for fun?"

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

how much longer need i suffer this hell?
i want out. i want out. i want out.

---

"Can't be helped. I've always liked redheads."

Another quip to add to the pile, although it was good to see his comments were at least worthy enough that Shiori cared to bring them up. She didn't give him much of a chance to revel in it, though. Her next inquiry was pretty sobering, as if he hadn't just been ruminating on his parents and the increasingly strained relationship he had with them. What was he supposed to tell her? That they didn't want him anymore? That the big, lumbering delinquent who had bashed some kid's face in on the first day of school had some whiny sob story to tell? That his tragic lack of familial love had led him down a dark path, and this was his chance at redemption? He'd never hear the fucking end of it if he admitted even a quarter of how he felt to this girl, and considering the year was just now beginning, he didn't know if he could stomach twenty-two months of her mockery. Well, more mockery than she was already wont to dispense.

"Folks got sick of me causing trouble, decided I needed to go live somewhere else," His eventual answer was short and nonchalant, figuring it was truthful enough to sate her curiosity without belying how much he actually cared, "I'm staying with my gramps at his place now. Probably gonna continue until I finish high school. After that, fuck knows what I'll do. Not staying, that's for damn sure."

Maybe it was his tendency to punish imagined slights, but she had cut him a little too close to the root on that one, so he decided to return fire with a question of his own. Plus, it'd help move the subject away from him and back onto her, where he preferred it.

"How about you? Got any kinfolk to keep you trapped here? You do seem like a good, wholesome, family oriented gal."

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

we're not alone. there's nothing and everything out there all at once.
i can hear them scratching. it's getting closer. i'm scared.

---

With little to do but watch the endless grey expanse above and listen, that was exactly what Ryusei did. What she said about the town certainly rang true—his folks had already sent him his first week's allowance, and even discounting the extra twenty five thousand in guilt money his mother had slipped in, he was punching a lot higher here than back in Kobe. Not that he had much to spend it on in the first place, discount rib tips and chips aside. He idly wondered if his pride would even allow him to spend it on something nice if he even found something; it wasn't the first time his family attempted to buy his love, and considering they had just condemned him to a year in proverbial hell, the envelopes that showed up every Monday sure felt like bribe money. Thankfully, Shiori gave him an out from the tempest of negativity whirling about in his mind.

"Yeah, can't imagine how a grass fire could have started around here. Maybe somebody dropped a cigarette or something."

Implications of accidental arson aside, he continued to listen as his... acquaintance? Continued her sad tale. It felt wrong to call her a friend, considering the briefness of their time together and the standoffish vibe that permeated pretty much every moment of it. Not that he had any right to complain about it, considering his own behavior. But it took two to tango, and he was sure Shiori would balk at the idea if he had so much as implied it. Maybe that was why she had no friends. At least his absentminded probing into her personal life blew open the doors of conversation, and she posed the same question back at him. He grimaced for a short moment, but eventually acquiesced, deciding it wasn't worth getting huffy over. It wasn't like his friends had ditched him—it was he who had to ditch them.

"Yeah, I had a few. Bunch of scumbags I'd hang out with after school. Or, more often than not, when we skipped. Used to get into a lot of bullshit with them, but they always had my back, so they were good enough guys," There was almost a hint of a smile on his lips as he thought back to all the trouble he'd gotten up to with his little gang of miscreants. One which only turned self-deprecating as thought about his love life.

"Shockingly enough, for as much as girls throw their legs open at the sight of me, I don't. Probably for the best. Poor girl would've been broken by the loss if I had—how can you go back to flank when you've had prime rib?" He joked, although he couldn't exactly let her get away with reminding him of his lack of fairer companionship, "Why're you askin'? Lookin' to try your luck?"