The rain had come without warning.
A summer rain.. gentle, persistent, and strangely warm poured over the quiet house like a lullaby from a world that had forgotten to wake us. The power had flickered out for a few uncertain minutes, and so we lit a single candle. Its golden flame danced in the stillness, casting long shadows against the walls as if trying to bring warmth to places untouched.
Aoi sat beside me on the tatami mat, hugging her knees. Her clothes clung faintly to her from the dash through the storm, and a damp strand of hair curved along her cheek like a brushstroke.
"You used to hate thunder," I said, handing her a towel without looking directly at her.
"I don't anymore," she murmured, gaze locked on the flame. "It makes the world feel… quieter. Like it's listening."
It was one of those moments that didn't ask for words. The silence wasn't empty, it was full. Full of breath. Full of unspoken things. Full of her, just inches away. The soft rhythm of her breathing. The warmth radiating from her skin. The scent of her shampoo.. faintly sweet, like peaches after rain ... pulling something fragile and forgotten from deep inside me.
"Riku…" she breathed, the sound almost hidden beneath the hum of the rain. "Do you remember when we used to pretend we were the last two people in the world?"
I nodded slowly. "You'd build blanket forts in the hallway. Said we were survivors of some great storm."
She smiled, and for a moment, I saw the child in her again. But the smile faded quickly, like it knew it no longer belonged here.
"Sometimes," she said, voice catching, "I wish that storm never ended."
"Aoi…"
Her name left my mouth without thinking. And that's when it happened.
She leaned in.
Not with drama or hesitation, but with gravity. As if two hearts had been circling each other for so long they'd forgotten they were allowed to meet. Her eyes flicked to my lips, wide with something fragile. Something breaking free.
I didn't move.
I couldn't.
The candle crackled between us, its flame swaying in rhythm with the ache.
And then. I pulled back.
Just a breath. Just enough.
But it was enough to shatter the spell.
Aoi blinked. Her breath hitched. And in the same heartbeat, she folded inward, drawing the blanket tighter around her.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, eyes shining. "That was… that was stupid. I wasn't thinking—"
"You were," I wanted to say.
But I didn't.
Because every word I had was tangled in the storm behind my ribs, and none of them could make sense of what I felt.
She rose before I could stop her. Said something... maybe about going to bed, but I barely heard it. I only saw the way her shoulders sagged as she walked away, candlelight trailing behind her like the remnants of something never said.
The rain kept falling.
Soft. Gentle. Steady.
And for the first time since coming home, I realized the storm outside wasn't the one I feared.
It was the one I'd just let pass.