After the Rain

Chapter 1 - "She's just a little girl!"

"Ahhhh!" I exclaimed as a breath of air rushed from my mouth to fill the air with the excitement that seemed to infect even the people around me.
Well, that was a lie. After all, I was not the only person excited for today. As I took my first step out of the train station, a whole bustling town of people paraded in front of me. A town I had so eagerly awaited to see for the past 24 years of my life (yes, even as a baby), 'Akihabara'.
The town of anime, the town of manga, the town of games, the town of dreams. Well, my dreams. And, best of all the reason for my excitement was the Japanese version of what the world called 'Comicon'. My first one since moving here to teach at the start of the year.
Yes, that's my life now. An English teacher at Sorufuru Elementary school. First year out of college and straight into a job at, perhaps, my dream country, 'Japan'. So far, the past three months have proven to be tough but fun, and educational, at the same time. The job is fantastic, the school amazing, and the children in my English classes were brilliant beyond anything I'd ever experienced.
Just yesterday, I found myself being amazed once again at the fact that the learners are waiting on me before I could even enter the class. They were always so respectful that it made me feel worse for still not knowing the names of every learner. Not that they actually seemed to mind, but it's shocking how pleasant it is to teach classes of 27 learners in grades like 4 up to 7.
Some mornings, even as I woke up and looked at my ever growing wavy dark brown hair through a pair of hazel eyes behind blue rimmed glasses, that were only worn to protect my eyes from everything that came across as 'too bright', thanks to the fact that I always sat in front of a laptop watching anime. I didn't need to wear the glasses all the time but I guess I just got used to them resting on my 'big' nose (as the girlfriend describes it).
I would often question myself, wondering if I was dreaming or whether I was actually living the dream now. It may not be a rich and lavish dream, but this was my ideal world. Walking down the street through this crowd of people as I rushed to get the figurines of my favourite 'Ninja' characters with the wages I earned while teaching little kids how to speak back to me in my language, this is what felt like bliss to me. Small things did suit me best. Things like this limited-edition hidden blade model that was held tightly in my hand as I squished my way out of the store.
After ticking off the last item on my list, I made my way towards the library where one of my favourite manga artists was doing a book signing, and with just enough time at that too.
With a bounce to my step and a snug feeling in my chest, I whipped my phone out to send a text message to someone very important with me, somebody I hope to bring here one day too. I gazed at her name, finding a lovely feeling suddenly kick me in the gut. She was probably waking up now and getting ready to attend classes for her final year of college.
A noise from ahead, instead, had me putting my phone down after I texted her a 'good morning'. The sound of a man suddenly swearing quite angrily in Japanese.
"Get back you filthy brat", even with my broken Japanese, I pretty much got the gist of what he was saying as he pushed a little girl away from him. The little girl fell to the floor where she scraped her elbow and began sobbing quite audibly. A few passing people looked but did nothing to comfort her, instead it looked as if most were trying to avoid her altogether.
It sickened me. Beggar or not, that was still a child and I would not want anyone to treat any of my children in that manner; and as a teacher, I had a lot of children. With a brisk walk that not-so-gently pushed aside anybody in my way, I leaned down in front of the child.
Her clothes were torn and dirtied with mud and grease. She had no shoes and her feet looked as if they had walked a hundred miles over hot sand while her hands were covered in the same grease that probably stained her torn dress. Her oily black hair fell all over her face, hiding much of her features, and was much too long for a girl her age to possibly be able to take care of.
I reached out and patted her head, my fingers and palm greeted by a mess of oily hair that seemed like a layer of slimy grime. The feeling almost sent a violent cringe down my spine, but the sight of her crying made me feel guilty for her condition. Guilt that the people around us should have felt.
"Hello. Are you okay", I asked her, my voice seemed to startle her as she flinched while wiping the tears from her eyes. Her elbow now fully exposed to me, revealing the scratch and glistening blood that sneaked out from behind her pale skin.
She didn't reply and then it struck me that I just spoke in English to a Japanese child, one who probably never heard my language before. I could have facepalmed myself, but she needed attention more.
Quickly, I turned to my translator and spoke into it, waiting for the reply. "Daijobu desu ka", I asked her once again if she was okay but once again, she stayed quiet and flinched. However, silence was something I had become accustomed to dealing with in a classroom. I reached for her hand, but she pulled away, trying to retreat from me. From the little of her face that I could see, a look of terror stared me down, waiting for me to make a move.
Slowly, I reached into my backpack and, being the ever-ready teacher that I needed to be, pulled out a disinfector and plaster before pointing at her hand and offering to help. When she didn't move, I reached for her hand and stretched it out. Before she could react again, I poured the disinfector in the cotton wool and dabbed it over her small wound. With every dab, she flinched as fresh tears began to streak down her bony cheeks. I felt a small pain hit my stomach, I didn't like to see others in pain, especially little kids. My girlfriend often said I was too sensitive towards things like this but I guess it's just how I am. After disinfecting her wound and disposing of the cotton wool, I placed a plaster on her arm and let go. She sat on the floor, not moving even as the people walked passed her. If I hadn't known any better, I would have thought that she was a lifelike, yet lifeless, doll.
I didn't know what to do for her, so I smiled. But I didn't get one in return, not that I minded though, after all, I was just a random stranger.
"Do you feel any better", I asked her in Japanese through the aid of the translator on my phone. This time, however, she nodded in response, much to my delight. "What is your-"
I cut my question off at the sound of her stomach roaring out in an angry fit. She was hungry but she barely made any move to show it. If my stomach roared like that, I would have been clutching it and trying to get food as fast as I could, but then again, my stomach has never made a sound that loud before.
"You must be hungry", I spoke but more to myself this time. I stood up, looking around me for a food outlet of some sort nearby and sitting right at the head of the street was McReez, a good place to grab food and it was close by. I reached a hand out for the little girl, hoping she would take it and let me help her up.
She looked at me, her gaze very questioning before slowly taking my hand and standing upright. I held her hand like a child I was about to cross the road with and started walking in the direction of the burger house. She followed me without any resistance, but her walk was a bit shaky and she staggered a lot while walking.
People looked at me with a stricken gaze and some looked at me confused, but more than me, they looked at the child with disgust and pity. But you wouldn't do anything to help her, I thought to myself as I watched everyone.
We entered the store and immediately caught the gaze of everyone nearby. They certainly weren't good at hiding the shock on their face, but I didn't care as I walked towards the counter, which I felt kind of happy because everyone in line just avoided us as we walked through and allowing us to cut the line.
"Hi, I would like to order one Adult Combo 2, and can you get me a...", I looked at the girl because I had no idea what she would eat. Her gaze was elsewhere, looking everywhere but at the people, she looked at the furniture and she looked at the menu while trying to keep her head down. "Give me a second."
Quickly, I bent down and startled the little girl. Using the translator app, I asked her, "What would you like to eat?"
She immediately looked at the floor, averting her eyes and trying her hardest to be anti-social again. I sighed, knowing full well that children like this were everywhere. She was shy, uncomfortable, and didn't trust me. That was fine, she didn't need to trust me, she needed to eat. "Do you want burger and chips?"
When she didn't reply, I repeated my question a bit more sternly, feeling myself slip into teacher mode, just like I did in class when I asked a question of a naughty kid who hadn't done their homework, which, in this country, was very seldom. This time she nodded slowly. I smiled at her and thanked her in Japanese, something I didn't need the translator for.
I was about to turn back to the cashier when I heard another voice, a male voice silently whispering to her in Japanese, "The foreigner brought her in, just bear with it but get somebody to clean up right after."
Well, that kind of pissed me off. I get that they have a public image to uphold, and that cleanliness was big, but that was disrespectful. Doesn't anybody understand that this is just a child. Standing up, I tried my best to put on a smile without showing that I was quite irate by what he just said, and unknowingly I spoke back to them in Japanese, "I would also like to get one Adult Combo 1." Well, there were things I did know how to say, like the everyday stuff that I needed to get by. The cashier and her supervisor looked at me stunned as I smiled at them with what was probably, as my learners had named it, my devil smile.
Our orders came quickly but we didn't sit inside to eat. With the food in one hand and the girl's hand in the other, we walked out of there and headed for a nearby bench. I sat on the bench, but the girl looked at me while standing up, her mouth salivating as she looked at the packet in my hand. She caught my gaze and immediately looked away. When she didn't sit, I said in Japanese, this time using the translator, "You can sit down."
She nodded and, to my surprise, she sat herself down on the floor opposite of me, looking up like a dog waiting for food. Her stomach was growling louder than before, and her eyes looked like they might have teared up if she didn't get something in her system soon.
However, it stunned me that she would sit on the floor, rather than on the bench. I mean, even if I was sitting there and she didn't want to sit next to a stranger, the bench was quite wide enough for at least four people to sit with enough elbow room between them.
I felt a little hurt at her small action, but I knew that for her this was probably comfortable. She was used to being treated like this, or worse, but this wasn't like those times. I waved to her, a motion that caused her to flinch and almost fall back. Quickly, I put my hand back down and said in Japanese, "Come and sit on the bench, little girl. It's okay, trust me." And, I offered her a hand to help her to her shaky legs.
Without a word, she sat next to me and waited patiently for her food. I thought she would have reached into the packet on her own but even as I opened my box and poured the chips in the empty space next to the burger, she waited in silence, trying her hardest not to look at my food. I sighed.
It was a little frustrating, a child like her from my country would normally steal right into the bag of food and even eat my food too. Seeing this here, it was different. Some days I forget just how different our countries were, from classroom etiquette to even mannerism on the sidewalk.
I handed her box, opened it and poured the chips just like I had done with mine. I sat back on my side after sorting her food out and noticed that her shoulders relaxed a little after I moved away. I made her nervous, something I could understand but also didn't know what she could have experienced to feel so distant from another human.
I lifted a chip but stopped when I noticed her just looking at the food and glancing in my direction before looking back at the food. Was she waiting for permission to eat?
"You can eat now", as soon as I said those words, she looked at me with shining eyes as her mouth curled into what might have been a smile if it wasn't open so wide with excitement.
Very silently I heard her whisper, "Itadakimasu." It's like a grace of sorts. She eagerly picked up the chips and shovelled as many into her mouth as she could before chewing. Her hands were shaking as she chewed quickly, her cheeks barely doing much to contain the bits of chips that jutted out of her mouth while she ate. Her eyes became shinier with every chip she swallowed, and it wasn't long before I realised that they weren't shining but it was tears collecting at the corners of her eyes before rolling down to disappear into the mess of hair that clung to the sides of her face.
My appetite had disappeared, watching her eat while she let out tears of – actually, I didn't know what they were of: happiness, sorrow? Just looking at her made me feel like something was eating away at my feelings. I felt for her and it made me feel like I had always taken eating for granted. Just looking at her, one would have been able to tell that this child hadn't eaten in days.
It brought a lot to mind, like her living conditions, where she laid to rest every cold night, what her parents thought of her.
Wait, her parents. Where were they now?
"Simi masen", she jumped when I excused myself, looking at me with a slightly fearful look, "Sorry. Where are your parents?"
When she continued to stare at me with a confused expression, I realised that I had accidentally spoken in English, a habit I had because of English classes with my learners. Normally, in a language class, no other language is spoken besides the language of that lesson. "Where is your mother?"
She looked away, putting the burger in her hand down, and stared blankly at her food. Suddenly, the air around us had gotten cold, and a painful cut began to slash away within my throat. "Your father?"
Fresh tears began to streak in a more vivid fashion as she shook her head from side to side. She didn't need to say anything more for me to understand. She was an orphan, and she was alone on these streets.
My heart cried out to her and for what pain she was feeling, a pain I could not understand. I had both parents who were always there for me growing up, in fact, being here in Japan is the first time that I had gone anywhere without them. Someone like me had a fortunate life compared to this poor child.
I reached out and hugged her, pulling her close to me. She had a slight stench, but it didn't bother me. Not even the grime I felt staining the tee I wore felt gross to me at that moment. What she needed was a hug, and to know someone was there for her, what I felt about being 'dirty' didn't matter.
And, she really needed it. She stayed close to me, crying into my arms the entire time. Her sobs got louder for a few minutes before dying down to a silent sniff. She cried until I felt the fabric on my abdomen get as cold as the once hot food we had ordered.
"Daijobu", I asked if she were okay in her language.
And this time, just like with the previous question. I got an answer in the form of a nod from her as she sat upright and got back to eating the remainder of her meal. I dared not say more, so we both ate in silence but after what just happened, I didn't have much appetite.
For her though, it didn't matter if she did or didn't, she kept eating as much of her food until there was nothing left.
"Arigatou gozai masu", she whispered through a very tiny voice.
The first words she said to me.
It made me smile, as did the thank you she offered me. "Dou itashi mashite."
However, it was back to an awkward silence that existed from the moment she cried. The irony of this could have slapped me in the face, a teacher who didn't know what to say to a child. In class, it was my job to never stop talking until work was given or questions were being answered, yet now here I was sitting without a clue or word to say.
Just then, as I was about to open my mouth and try saying something meaningless, I noticed her gaze trained on something across the road from us.
I followed and found her looking at the ice cream stall where kids were in line with their parents, waiting eagerly to get the flavour they wanted.
I smiled and knew that you didn't need words to ask a child if they wanted ice cream. After telling her to wait at the bench, I ran across the road to avoid the light changing colour on me half way and purchased two chocolate swirls on cones. I turned around and almost dropped my ice cream, she was already walking away from the bench.
The light for us to cross was red, and in Japan, people obeyed the lights. However, I didn't have the patience nor time for it right now. So, following in my original country's 'tradition', I ran across the road while trying to avoid the cars at the same time, and getting blasted by an obviously angry driver for my rude behaviour.
I muttered sorry to whoever was listening as I barged my way through the suddenly crowded pavement and found the little girl walking just pass somebody who gave her a very dirty look.
"Hey", I called out. The man looked shocked while she turned and looked at me, her dark brown eyes brightening up the more she realised that I was standing there.
I knew there was no way of knowing that this was right or not, but I felt like it was. To her, I was abandoning her on that bench when I left without her to get these ice-creams. She must have been used to being abandoned. To her, it was just normal and just another passing person saying goodbye after their 'good' deed for the day.
With a smile as warm as I could make it, I walked up to her, let out a deep breath and said in what little Japanese I did now, "Sorry for the wait."
I knelt in front of her and held out the one ice cream, much to the surprise and disgust of everyone that walked around us.
She looked at my hand as the ice cream slowly began to melt and drip down the sides of the cone, all the while unsure of what she should do. Her hands were uncertain as her gaze kept shifting between my face and my hand. I smiled at her, encouraging her to take it. "It's for you."
Slowly and hesitantly, she reached for it and put both hands on mine. She waited for a second to see if I would pull away but all that she saw was the same smile on my face as I waited to enjoy my ice cream with her. When the ice cream was in her hands, she stared at it like it was a sparkling diamond or something she had never seen before.
It was a sight that brought a bout of mixed emotions inside of me; like sorrow and amusement, I suppose. I'd never seen somebody look so profoundly amazed at being able to hold an ice cream cone. She looked at me again, as if wanting to say something or wanting to know what to do. It was like with her food, so I licked my ice cream and she copied what I did.
"Do you like it?"
After another lick, she nodded her head rapidly. She smiled at me, the glint in her eyes as warm as the curl on her tiny childish lips. She was happy and seeing her like that burnt a warm fire of fulfilment within me. Maybe I was just doing this to make myself feel good, however, as I looked upon this child smiling at the ice cream that she had probably tasted for the first time in her life, I was certain a button inside me clicked.
"Arigatou." She thanked me a lot more audibly this time, her voice sounding a little alive.
Without much going through my head, instinctively I reached out and began to pat her head. She only flinched lightly this time, and she also stopped licking her ice cream. She stayed quietly letting me pat her greasy hair.
I stood upright and licked my ice cream, she did the same.
People kept walking pass the two of us, but it didn't seem to matter much. Maybe it was my paternal instinct, or maybe it was just because I had become a teacher and felt like this. I couldn't be sure what it was that made me do what I had done for her. But I did know that I wanted to take care of this child. And, that she didn't deserve this unlucky draw that life had given her.
But, what could I do? I thought to myself.
Pulling my phone out again, quickly I found the translation I wanted as I licked the melting ice cream off the sides of my cone. "Would you walk with me for a bit?"
She nodded and in silence, we walked down the street with no particular destination in mind. Overhead, birds chirped as the flew in their flocks and the clouds slowly begun to darken with hopes of dropping their loads of water over the town. The streets were steadily becoming void of people as the time had passed and the anime festival ended.
Which, now that I thought about it, I had completely forgotten about getting my manga copy autographed. Internally, I shed a tear at the thought of missing such an opportunity, however, looking down and next to me, the happiness that little girl felt as she smiled and munched on the ice cream filled cone made it feel worth the missed opportunity.
Speaking of which, there was something I should know by now but didn't. Perhaps it was because of all the worry about her condition. "What's your name", I asked her as we turned the corner and steadily came to a halt in front of a bakery and under the shelter of its overhanging front awning.
I waited for her reply as I bit into the sides of the cone to reveal more ice cream. However, there wasn't any reply. I bent down and asked her again, looking at her with a concerning thought I hoped was probably just me being stupid.
"Anata no namae?" I asked her the question again, hoping that she would answer me.
"I . . ." her voice trailed off before whispering again, "I don't have a name."
That hit me like a knife to the heart.
How long has she been alone for?
To not have a name, that was inconceivably insane to me. It wasn't something I could understand, nor was a pain I could possibly imagine. Did I even know what it meant to not have a name? To not be given an identity?
No, my life had never known such hardships. I've always known who I was, I have always had my name and my identity.
As if the world had begun to feel the sorrow of this child's life, rain fell in a heavy downpour of melancholic drumming across the entire street. People scurried away to whatever shelter they could find to wait out the sudden outburst from the sky.
She just looked at me with a smile, thanking me for the ice cream. It almost took away from the feeling of sadness that was her life. She had nobody that knew her, nor did she know nobody of kind.
It was like she hadn't just heard herself when she claimed to have no name, to own no identity. She didn't weep about it, she didn't complain. She only stated that fact like it was normal. She didn't cry when she told me about it like she did about her parents, instead she only looked out at the rain, standing in silence as if enjoying the sound that the rain drummed on the different textures and surfaces. I looked out too, hoping to find the source of strength that had her humming to the rain. Instead, I found the hymn that came from the rain to be just the sad melody of the crying heartbeats that she didn't shed.
A tapping on my arm pulled me out of my head. She looked at me and smiled before saying, "Can I go?"
My breath caught as I asked her, "Where are you going?"
She pointed at the rain before saying, "The rain."
And, without waiting for a reply. She sprinted into the shower outside. I almost ran after her, wanting to stop her from running away but she stopped just a little before the road but still far enough for the rain to soak her within seconds.
I didn't chase her, instead I stayed and watched what she did. And damn, seeing it made my heart tear in a couple of pieces. She practically danced in joy under the rain, twirling around and trying to grab every drop of rain water in her hands and mouth. She rubbed the water around her body and through her face. She held her mouth open to entrap and swallow every drop that fell in.
This was probably a sight she was used to, but it wasn't something I saw often. Rain like this, it always came and went but I never once noticed how happy rain could have been to some of us. More happy to others than even to those of us who preferred having rain instead of sunlight.
Without thinking about what I was doing, I stepped into the rain and kept walking until I stood in front of her.
She stopped and looked at me, her eyes blinking as the drops of rain battered on her face. She may have become used to bathing in the rain, using it as drinking water and whatever else she needed it for.
She may have lived alone and on the streets all this time.
She may have gotten used to eating whatever she could find from digging wherever she felt like she had to.
But, I was not used to seeing someone do that.
It wasn't something I could acknowledge right now. It would be inhumane of me to abandon her, to leave her and let her live alone again.
It would be no better than giving her a gun and telling her to pull the trigger against her temple.
So, what could I do? "Would you like to come with me?"
She gave me a confused look.
In fact, I wasn't even sure what I was doing myself. I just did it on instinct. "Would you like to come and live with me?"