Rebellion of the Soul

Chapter 8: When the Rain Falls

Under the sky of nowhere, two women march against the night as it becomes violently darker, and the rain as it continues to plummet from the heavens. That was the problem with bad weather, especially rain. It made clear thought almost an impossibility. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone, safeguarding it from the water with my hand as I peered at the screen.

10:10 PM. It's on days like these where you realise how fleeting time really is. If anything, time does an excellent job at washing our lives away. Where does it all go?

Tomorrow would be the initiation test. I spent the spare hours of the evening considering what it could possibly be but I doubt any stretch of assumption would cover it. I just had to be prepared for any eventuality. Without a clue, I continued to walk the short yet dragging distance back to my apartment, progressing through the narrow maze that was the urbanity of Nishikoiwa.

The seeping darkness was flattened by the glare of each passing street lamp and the inviting glow of the vending machines. These streets, the empty side streets visited only by wanderers, were even more vacant at these hours of the day. All that could be heard was the thundering patter of the raindrops on the ground and the tuned out tapping of our feet on the pavement. I preferred it over the raucous tumult that would multiply and overflow from the main streets. 

A segmented grey shroud hovered around Musetsu, like a plume of clouded feathers. She walked beside me, her feet in unison with my own. Completely unaware of the fact that I was looking at her, she kept on automatically, unaffected and unaltered by the rain. From the corner of my eye, the blinking light from my phone trailed my attention away from her.

It was another message from the unknown sender. Reluctant to open it at that moment, I simply ignored it and slid the phone back into my pocket with a mildly peeved sigh. Then, Musetsu stopped in front of me, cutting into me with surprising yet still subtly weak bluntness using her deadpan, inscrutable words. Musetsu was still incapable of genuine stabbing emotion, be it scathing or enthusiastic in origin.

"Is it not rude to ignore a text like that...?"

"How do you know I got a text?"

"Is it not rude to ignore a text...?"

"Well..." I clenched my fist slightly and disarmed my questioning. "Okay then, I'll read it"

I flipped my phone out again and opened the mail. This time it read:

'The door is almost open.'

I shook my head pathetically. The only person with enough scruples of appreciation to text me is a creepy, mysterious proverb stalker. Musetsu's calm words then floated through the cover of the rain.

"You do not know this person, but maybe they know you. They may even know you more than yourself."

"Even if they did, I can hardly say what they're doing is helpful." I noted, leaving the text open on my phone yet returning it to my pocket anyway.

A dingy streetlamp flickered, the light seeming to flow straight through her body. A suppressed rumbling of night-time festivities came from the nearby jazz bar, the neon sign scratched and in disrepair, so much that it no longer made sense. But I suppose that doesn't matter to the patrons, as long as they can have a cheap drink and while away their worries for the night.

I would usually comment on the state of tranquillity, but the true tranquillity of my life had long crumbled away. All I could say for certain is the remaining pieces of that are scraps of false tranquillity put in its gap left behind; putting puzzle pieces in places that don't fit properly.

Musetsu stood in my shadow that was strongly cast on the pavement. She was wistfully staring into the distance, her clear, empty eyes catching the stars in the sky like beautiful fireflies of the night. Seeing her do this was mesmerising, and soon she lifted her arm and began to trace the starts like a child.