Beachcomber - KiyoYachi

Chapter 1

Stormy days were the best days for Yachi.

Yes, the thunder was deafening, the rain would lash down in sheets, and the sea thrashing angrily didn't exactly put her at ease, but stormy days meant that she could stay shut in her room, and that was good enough for her.

Yachi would stare at the ocean.

She would lounge on the window seat, listening to the radio, and watch the waves gradually build up, only for them to tumble back down into the sand.

In the distance, she could barely make out the waves crashing against the cliff side, spraying sea foam in all directions.

On a certain stormy day, she couldn't make out even the grassy sand dunes through the thick fog and heavy rain.

Yachi was pressed up against the cold window, gazing out at the dark clouds, her warm breath condensing on the glass.

She shivered.

The faint outline of a tree bent steeply, the winds forcing it into an unnatural position.

A brilliant bolt of white lightning flashed in the sky, followed by a deafening peal of thunder.

Her mother would always warn her not to sit near the window on stormy days, but her mother wasn't there anymore.

Now Yachi couldn't care less whether or not she was in danger.

She enjoyed the thrumming of the rain against the window, and she enjoyed the thunder rattling the windowpane. She especially enjoyed the sudden flash of lightning, causing her to see stars.

Yachi enjoyed the feeling of vulnerability, for she was nothing but a mere human, subject to the tempestuous weather.

She watched the storm on that miserable afternoon, subconsciously picking at the tattered peach blanket that covered her legs, the radio playing a gentle composition that Yachi had no knowledge of.

Forked lighting streaked across the caliginous sky. Yachi averted her gaze, squeezing her chestnut eyes shut.

Her radio went static.

Yachi ignored the fuzzy sound. The rain sounded nicer. The steady pitter patter lulled her into a trance, a vivid daydream.

Yachi thought of the sea, dark green-gray and powerful. She thought of the energy that it possessed, crashing about endlessly. She thought of the life the huge mass contained, every single organism, from plankton to coral, from familiar creatures to the unknown.

She opened her eyes again.

The storm was settling. The thunder and lightning was all but gone, and the rain was reduced to a steady downpour.

Yachi glanced at her radio, still static.

Out of her peripheral vision she thought she saw a light. Not bright lightning, but rather a soft blueish glow.

Yachi diverted her attention back to the ocean. She scoured for the source of the glowing light, but couldn't see anything.

She frowned. Perhaps she'd been imagining things? No, she was certain about what she'd seen. Yachi wiped the condensation off the window with her sleeve, and squinted out at the waves.

Nothing.

Nothing but disturbed waters, falling up the shore in masses of frothy sea foam.

Yachi sighed to herself.

The imagination was cruel.