Into The Rain With You

It was a Tuesday afternoon when I saw Haruka again. She was sitting on the bench in the courtyard, that same book in her lap, but this time she wasn't reading. She was just staring off into the distance, lost in thought.

For a moment, I hesitated. I had gotten used to the quiet between us, the unspoken understanding that hung in the air whenever we were together. But today, something was different. She wasn't just sitting there. She was waiting.

I could feel it.

I found myself walking toward her, my footsteps slower than usual. When she noticed me, her expression softened, but there was something else there too—a certain sadness, like she had been waiting for this conversation to happen for a long time.

"Hey," I said, sliding onto the bench next to her. My voice was barely above a whisper, but she heard it. She always did.

"Hey," she replied, her gaze shifting toward me. There was a long pause before she spoke again. "Are you doing okay, Kai?"

I wasn't sure how to answer. The words were there, just out of reach. I wanted to tell her everything—the fear, the anxiety, the overwhelming sense of loneliness that had clung to me for so long. But I didn't know how to begin.

"I don't know," I said quietly. "I'm trying to be."

She gave me a small, understanding smile, and I could see that she wasn't pressing me for answers. But there was something in her eyes that made me feel like she knew more than I wanted to admit. She always seemed to know.

"You don't have to try so hard, you know," she said, her voice gentle. "You don't have to be perfect."

"I'm not perfect," I muttered, but the words felt empty. I didn't know what I was trying to prove anymore.

Haruka sighed, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "I can see that. But you don't have to be. Not with me. Not with anyone."

I swallowed, feeling a lump form in my throat. Her kindness was both a comfort and a reminder of everything I couldn't give back. Everything I was too afraid to show.

"I don't know how to… how to stop being like this," I admitted, the words finally coming out in a rush. "I don't know how to stop pushing people away. How to stop pretending everything is fine when it's not."

"You don't have to stop being who you are," Haruka said, her voice low but steady. "You just have to let people in. It doesn't happen all at once, but it starts with small steps. It starts with trusting someone enough to show them the parts of you that scare you."

I looked at her, the vulnerability in her words sinking in. But I wasn't ready. I wasn't ready to trust anyone with the things I had hidden for so long.

"I don't know if I can," I whispered, my gaze dropping to the ground.

Haruka didn't answer right away. She just sat there next to me, letting the silence fill the space between us. I didn't know what she was thinking, but it felt like she was waiting for something—waiting for me to take that step, waiting for me to reach out.

Finally, she spoke. "You don't have to do it alone. I'll be here, no matter how long it takes."

The weight of her words settled over me, like a blanket I didn't know I needed. For a moment, I wanted to reach out. I wanted to tell her everything—to let her see the mess inside me. But I didn't know how.

The fear still held me back.

But somehow, her presence made the fear feel a little smaller. A little more manageable.