the day it stopped raining | midoriya izuku

13 | lightning bottle

TOKYO
20°C
MODERATE RAIN

It's been over a few months since the last time Masuyo dropped by Neoma.

The last time she stepped foot into the store was the day she inadvertently caused an incident in front of the world. Although it seemed like a truly natural disaster struck on the street, but the guilt that has been eating her away ever since was still there as if it's been there all along.

It's not like she was trying to keep her terrible secret hidden, the girl thought there was no point in telling anyone—there was no one to tell about it anyway. And even if she does, she doesn't intend to. Never want to. Sure, one day she might have to explain herself, but how does one explain her? Masuyo's beyond complicated than she already is. Just a move too much and she'll probably break, yet that depends on who's asking the question. At the end of the day, she'd have to endure it all and act as if she's the strongest and mightiest of all.

This time, when Masuyo decides to drop by Neoma, she doesn't wear a hoodie. Instead, she goes for an over-sized shirt and sweat pants. Believe it or not, she finally chose to make use of her black umbrella that's been sitting by the front door for infinity.

Why is it now that she decides to use the umbrella? Oneself thinks. Perhaps it's the lack of motivation to carry little things that deemed unnecessary like water bottles on a sunny day or big wads of cash when you have a credit card. Like politely informing the cashier not to pack your favourite chocolates in a bag because you have pockets.

That's probably part of the reason and most likely show what kind of person Masuyo Haru is. Demotivated on most days because everything's too tiring to carry, even the little things.

When she got to the ground floor, left the lobby, and left the apartment building, she opens her umbrella for the first time in so long, sheltering herself from the rain. She, for once, felt like a human being in a while—carrying an umbrella like a normal person, crossing the small street and onto the steps of Neoma's radiant blues in the midst of breaking dusk. As if blending in with the real world, a society unfitting for someone like Masuyo.

It's likely proven when she entered through the glass doors of Neoma, the automatic bell signalling her presence. The raindrops drip off the pointy tips of her umbrella, wetting the carpet by the door. She places the umbrella in the rack before walking towards the ramen aisle, huffing out small breaths at the air-conditioner enveloping the blinding store.

She squints slightly, unable to recall how the store looks brighter than before. Maybe it's because she hadn't come here after all. Not ever since Midoriya became Neoma's delivery guy, Masuyo chuckles at the thought. Not exactly. She told him a while ago to stop wasting his money over ramen and coffees for her, and politely declined his other option to cook dinner. She appreciates the gesture, really.

The wine-haired girl stands in front of the ramen section, hazy eyes lazily roaming over the different flavours. And even though she does this all the time, she still picks the same one like a habit, an addiction. Everything's the same as it was before she met Midoriya. As if nothing happened.

"That's her."

She absently hears from her sensitive ears. Perhaps it's just mindless chatting from other customers, but that voice was definitely from Maki, the gruff and shabby-looking man who sees the world like a tedious movie playing endlessly.

Masuyo was about to pick the spicy ramen off the shelf, until she hears a new voice entering her bubble, slightly startling her but she didn't let it show on her face. She turns to the person, and it was a radically new stranger she hasn't seen, but he looks authoritative from his appearance; a simple black suit from any other cheap tailors and black strands neatly combed like any other businessmen.