From Cracked Open Skies - A World in Fluctuation

Chapter 8 - Doll's ???

God was most definitely angry now, for the unending torrent of rain only intensified as he continued homewards, until it appeared as if the second Great Flood was upon the powerless humans once more. While the subway ride had provided some respite from the rain, it had also permitted Banri the pleasure of being sandwiched between five other, equally wet, students. Their umbrellas were still shedding the raindrops that stubbornly clung to them, a good amount finding a new home inside his shoes. If it wasn’t for the fact that the monsoon overpowered every other sound, he’d be squelching with every step.

Rain boots.

If autumn and winter was going to be a wet one, he was definitely going to get rain boots.

If he remembered to.

At least the umbrella was good. Unlike its previous owner, the black umbrella was easy to handle and did its job without comment, silently shielding Banri’s upper half from the rain. If he was a stricter, more respectable Japanese male, he would have disliked being in the debt of another, but he was a freeloader. The best things were free things. Hidden by heavy rain, Banri stuck an index finger in his nose and excavated a booger, flicking it away. It was smacked down the moment it was hurled into the pounding rain.

Nature was scary.

He wondered if that sack of fur that he had seen in the morning was still alright, whether it had been taken in by a kinder human or not. Whether it was now a corpse, shredded by a murder of crows, or whether it was slowly drowning in the range. A flash of pity struck at his conscience, before he shrugged to himself, mentally bringing up the same excuse he had in the morning.

There was nothing he could do for it.

The rain let up by the time he had walked home, shifting into a more contemplative pattering. His shoes were thoroughly soaked, but the black umbrella had held true the entire time, keeping his head dry and his school materials –for better or worse- safe. He’d have to take Roless up on his offer then. He was keeping the umbrella.

Fiddling with the key as his glasses began to fog over, Banri grimaced as he missed his first few jabs into the keyhole, repeating the action until the familiar scrape of metal against metal told him that his efforts had succeeded. A twist came next, and then a push, bringing him to the dry warmth of the Hamamo household. He shook the raindrops out of his umbrella outside, before slipping off his drenched shoes and socks.

“I’m home, mom.”

Peeking her head out from the living room, she waved airily and said, “Welcome back, kiddo.”

Then, she took a second glance, and a cheeky smile, one unbefitting of her age, popped up.

“I see you’ve made yourself a new friend. Whose umbrella is that? You should totally introduce her to me! Ah, finally, my Banri has found a responsible girlfriend to cover his inadequacies with her competence~”

“…it was from a guy.”

Her voice became a metric ton more toneless. “I didn’t think you would swing that way, son. Was your browser history a lie?”

“…”

Right, no, he was returning this umbrella.

Just like Roless, it invited way too much trouble into his daily life.

---

He danced ten steps past the stone walls that encircled the perimeter of the building.

He twirled twenty-two steps up the rust-metal stairs, which echoed every time his foot fell.

He flew thirty-seven steps down a stone corridor, the tips of his fingers grazing the plastered wall and the falling rain.

He spun ninety degrees to the right, and confirmed the room number as 334.