It Pours

Ichiro's footsteps echoed through the growing puddles as he propelled himself faster and harder than ever before.

Despite the fact that a taxi would be quicker, he persisted in running through the unrelenting downpour, becoming thoroughly drenched to the bone. His forceful footfalls stirred fallen cherry blossom petals in the puddles, sending them swirling behind him.

With his lungs burning, he burst into the hospital lobby and skidded to a stop before the nurse at the front desk. Between labored breaths, he managed to blurt out, “Nakagawa!” The bewildered nurse stared wide-eyed at him, struggling to decipher the meaning of his cryptic words. He struggled to catch his breath for a clearer explanation, but his focus shifted as he felt a tug on his wet sleeve.

Turning quickly, he accidentally splashed rainwater onto Mizuki. Her head was lowered as she continued to hold onto his clothes, her greeting a hushed murmur.

“Hey, Ishii. Keep your voice down. Remember, we're in a hospital.”

“Mizuki!” He lowered himself to her eye level, wincing at the sight of the water droplets on her face. “I'm sorry about that.” He tried to wipe them away, realizing some were not raindrops. Her eyes were bleary, and red rings encircled them. “Are you OK?”

“You're one to ask.” She managed a slight chuckle, meeting his gaze for the first time since New Year's. Her eyes traced over the bruise covering his cheek, “You look like you got hit by a car on your way here.”

“It's a long story. But where-” His question was cut short as Mizuki pointed towards the elevators.

“Third floor. Last room on the right. You can't miss it.”

“Thank you!” He called back to her as he was already making his way to the elevator, the millisecond she finished her directions. He repeatedly jabbed the up button, hoping to speed things up. In less than a second, he dashed for the stairs, vanishing behind the closing doors. Just a moment later, the elevator doors opened to no one. Mizuki shook her head and smiled.

“You've found quite the character, Sis.”

At the top of the stairs, Ichiro busted through the door and took a moment to figure out which direction to head and kept running all the way. As he came to the right hallway that Mizuki had mentioned, he saw two people at the end of the hall. It took no time for him to realize that it was Izumi’s parents who were sitting in chairs located at the end next to a closed door. Her mother was bent over with her face in her hands, while her husband was rubbing her back in an attempt to console her.

The instant he locked eyes on them, he slowed his approach, only continuing after a brief hesitation. Still a few rooms away, Izumi's father noticed him and rose swiftly, moving to intercept him. His stern demeanor turned sour, glaring at the approaching teenager.

“What are you doing here?”

Ichiro remained silent for a brief moment, carefully choosing his words in the tense atmosphere. He noticed that Izumi's father's eyes were swollen from crying and sleep deprivation. With this in mind, he tried to approach the situation as delicately as possible.

“Mizuki has already told me everything,” Ichiro began, his voice gentle.

“And what does that have to do with you being here now?” Izumi's father's voice was as unyielding as his glare, piercing through Ichiro. Nervously, Ichiro gulped, searching for the best way to proceed. He bit his lip, his mind racing to find a suitable path forward.

Running out of time and patience, Ichiro was about to blurt out something hasty.

But his words were abruptly cut off. He instinctively stepped back as Izumi's father did the same. Between them suddenly appeared Mizuki, positioning herself with her back to Ichiro and her arms outstretched in a protective stance, as if shielding him from her father's piercing gaze. Both men looked at her in astonishment, perplexed by her actions. Even Izumi's mother, rising to her feet, watched the unfolding scene with deep concern.

“M-Mizuki?” Izumi's father stammered, regaining his composure. He bent down slightly, attempting to reach out to her, “What are you doing? What's happening?”

“Let him have his moment,” Mizuki's voice remained steady, despite her head being bowed. Her words took both Ichiro and Izumi's father off guard, the unexpected show of support catching them both by surprise.

“Dear,” Izumi's father tried to place a hand on her head, but she quickly moved her head to evade the touch. “I understand you're upset, but—”

Lifting her face, Mizuki met her father's eyes with her cheeks stained with sorrow. “We've all had our time with her. She wouldn’t listen to us. Let him just try. She might listen to him.” Both of Izumi's parents' faces contorted with a mix of grief and pain as they absorbed Mizuki's request. Her mother, who had drawn closer to her husband in a gesture of solidarity, started to cry once again. Her husband turned to console her, enfolding her in his arms.

Ichiro lowered his head, allowing his shoulders to sag as well. He understood that his best option at this moment was to remain silent. The realization that Izumi's father was correct—that he had no inherent right to be there—weighed heavily on his heart, yet he clung to a glimmer of hope.

“She is going to be just fine,” her father tried reasoning with the short girl, whose shoulders were shaking as she tried to hold in her tears. “She just needs to rest and then-”

“He is her only friend,” Mizuki’s voice quivered, fresh tears streaming down her face. “If anyone can do this, I know he can.”

And there it was. The spark that reignited the hope in his heart. He felt his jaw clench as he silently thanked Mizuki for giving him the courage he needed at that moment. All that remained was her parent’s seeing that this wasn't’ for him, it wasn’t for Mizuki, it was all for Izumi.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Izumi's father turned to face Ichiro. “Go,” he finally said, his stern demeanor showing cracks. Ichiro's heart nearly skipped a beat upon hearing those words. His eyes widened as he wondered if he had correctly interpreted the message. The subsequent words confirmed his understanding. “Make it quick, but go on.”

Caught off guard by the shift in the atmosphere, Ichiro hesitated momentarily before offering the deepest bow of his life. “Thank you, sir!” He expressed his gratitude, the words echoing loudly enough to draw the attention of the nurse staff at the end of the hallway.

“Just hurry,” her father said, shaking his head and motioning him inside. No longer hesitating, Ichiro moved to the door beside them. However, even grasping the handle required an incredible effort, his hand seemingly resisting the act. Battling his own anxiety, he forced the door open slowly, careful not to create a disturbance.

Filled with apprehension, he cautiously entered the room. “Izumi?” His voice was a soft call to the room's occupant, which was met only by the gentle hum and intermittent beeps of the numerous machines. “It's me, Ishii.”

He moved deeper into the room, navigating around the cluster of computers and machines that carried on their activities as if oblivious to his presence. In the center of the room, encircled by the mechanical companions, lay a bed. Resting atop it was a small figure.

Beside her, a small chair awaited. Ichiro lowered himself into it, nearly folding his body in half, his eyes now level with hers as he continued to speak. “It's been quite a while now, hasn't it?”

Her body was cloaked in a thin hospital gown and a warm blanket. Tubes snaked into her body from various points, and an oxygen mask rested gently over her mouth. A delicate fog formed and dissipated rhythmically on the clear plastic surface of the mask, a quiet sign that she was still connected to life.

Her head was wrapped in a white shawl, presumably to conceal the absence of her hair. Her face bore a gaunt appearance, yet she slept peacefully. Ichiro had always thought of her as petite compared to him, but seeing her like this, he feared she might fade away before his very eyes. At that moment, the phone conversation he had had with Mizuki prior replayed in his mind.

***

“It's Izumi!” Mizuki's voice had trembled, her words punctuated by sobs as she relayed the events of the past few months. “I don’t know when, but she stopped taking her medicine or even showing up to her treatments. I knew something was wrong. I should have seen the signs.”

“Calm down,” Ichiro pleaded, not sure what the young teen girl was trying to tell him. “What’s happening? Where’s Izumi?”

“She’s in the hospital.” Mizuki continued her voice shaking with each sentence she forced out. “Her condition has gotten really bad. The doctors are doing everything they can. But they can’t make her do anything she isn’t willing to do herself. She keeps refusing them and they are telling us that if she doesn’t start taking her medicine soon she won't be able to recover ever again. She just might slip under and not wake up again.”

“OK, OK,” Ichiro sighed his face down as he listened to the story unfolding over the phone while the cool rain poured over his shoulders, “But I don’t know what I could do about that. She hasn’t talked to me in so long, I doubt she would even listen to me.”

A moment of silence passed over the phone as the sound of the falling rain increased, “Alright,” Mizuki sniveled one last time, “If that’s the case, at least come and say your goodbyes to her.”

With those last few words, Ichiro's world collapsed in an instant. Without a moment's hesitation, his body propelled itself forward, fleeing into the pouring rain.

***

"Quite a lot has happened since you've been gone," he maintained a steady voice as he conversed with her, though she remained unresponsive to him. "Everyone has been missing you, too. The whole school has been feeling down, not knowing what happened to you. You could let them know you're okay, right?"

Only the gentle beeping of her heart monitor responded to his soft chuckle. In the near silence of the room, he lowered his face in self-disgust for what he had been saying. He couldn't comprehend why he thought deceiving her would serve any purpose, but a desperate urgency gripped him, impossible to ignore.

"At the very least, you could've left them a note that you'd be gone for a while, right?" As he spoke, he noticed her hands lying atop the blanket. With great care, so as not to disturb the IV drip in her vein, he slid his hand under hers, his fingers gently intertwining with hers. Her skin felt cold against his touch, but it began to warm slightly from the heat of his own. "And if nothing else, you could've told me, right? I would've been there for you. Just like I promised you—I'd be your legs and take you wherever you wanted to go.

“We still have so many places to explore. Plus, I haven't finished reading your story yet. I just want to know how it ends. So please, I'm begging you, don't go somewhere I can't follow.” He lowered his head, tears streaming down onto her cool hand. “I love you, so please, don't leave me.”

Tears welled uncontrollably in his eyes, spilling down onto her wrists. He despised himself at that moment, wishing he could control his emotions or at least prevent himself from blubbering like this. Yet, no matter how much he tried, he couldn't suppress the flood of feelings as he clung to her hand with all the closeness he could muster.

Then, a soft sound pierced the air. Barely audible, it rose just above the machinery's hum, but he heard it clearly. Swiftly, he raised his head, desperately wiping away his tears.

Scanning the room, he searched for the source of the sound, but he found no one else present. “Huh?”

Yet, an answer to his query emerged. It was soft but distinct.

“It's beautiful… isn't it?”

His gaze snapped to Izumi's face behind the oxygen mask. Her lips quivered as she softly breathed, the effort to move them seemingly requiring all her strength. Her eyes were still shut, as if she was talking in her sleep.

“Izumi! Ah! You’re awake!” Ichiro's chair crashed as he jumped to his feet, taking care not to disturb her further. “Wait, what? What's beautiful?” He urged her to speak again, wanting to dispel the notion that this was merely a dream.

“The… rain,” her voice was faint and hoarse, her tired throat struggling to convey her blurry thoughts. “It's… raining.”

Blinking rapidly, Ichiro searched the hospital room for any signs of rain. The only trace of rain he found was a small window on the far wall behind him, angled toward the darkened skyline. Although subtle, he could discern the faint streaks of rain still falling outside.

“That's right!” He turned back to her, his grip on her hand tightening. “It's raining outside.”

“I… feel it,” she mumbled, her body still somewhat stiff from its prolonged inactivity. Despite this, Ichiro sensed her hand straining, attempting to lift on its own accord. “On my… hand, I… feel it. It's so… warm.”

“Huh?” Ichiro offered an awkward smile, attempting to comprehend her words. “We're indoors, though?” Yet, as he gazed at her wrist, he noticed a glistening droplet just below where his face had been pressed earlier. “Oh. You're right! It's raining! It's really raining here now.” Laughter mixed with joyful tears as he pressed her hand against his cheek again.

Slowly, her eyes finally made their way open, just barely. They sat sunken on her face like inky pools beyond her eyelids. Rolling softly to the side, she gave a pained expression. “I’m sorry…” her voice squeaked when tears ran down her cheeks.

Ignoring his own, he reached over and wiped Izumi’s tears from her face. “It’s alright. I am just here to talk. Can we do that?”

It took a while to get her fully upright, having to call a nurse over to help her readjust her sore body to be in a sitting position in the bed. She carefully fidgeted with her fingers, making sure not to move the IV in her arm as she did. Her head hung low as she refused to look up at Ichiro for even a moment now that they were once again alone.

“So,” Ichiro finally broached the silence with a soft chuckle, “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Izumi’s hands froze when she heard the question. “I’m sorry…” was all she said as she kept her head low.

“So, what happened?” Ichiro leaned forward a bit, one of his arms resting lightly on the edge of the bed, “I hadn’t heard from you in so long. You were getting my messages, right?”

“Yeah.” She softly answered, not that she could lie since the phones had read markers on their messages. “I’m sorry…”

“You keep saying that, but I am the one who should say that to you.”

Izumi’s head raised up just enough to give him a puzzled look.

“I heard what happened. Hina told me.” He sighed and pulled away from her as he folded his hands together across his knees, “You were suffering, and I kept turning a blind eye to it. Some friend I was.”

Silence came from Izumi, before she softly laughed to herself, “I never considered you a friend. I was just using you for my own self purposes.”

Ichiro chuckled in reply, “Yeah, that makes sense.”

Another pause in their conversation before Izumi spoke up again. “Not that you were any better. I don’t know what you got out of this, but I am sure it was just as selfish. How you pitied me and everything.”

Ichiro felt a bitter taste creep up the back of his throat, he never thought of it before. Though it had never been on his mind, he found the concept mildly nostalgic to him about her. “Maybe I was. Probably at first, but now not so much.”

“Whatever you say,” Izumi rolled her eyes and head back against the raised up headboard of the hospital bed.

“How does the story end?”

Izumi’s face contorted in confusion, turning over at him as if disgusted by his mere presence. But then his question finally dawned on her. She shook her head and looked away from him, “Princess dies. No one comes and saves her, and she dies. The end.”

“Is that really how it ends?”

“Yes,” answered flatly, her eyes still turned as far from him as she could muster with her limited strength. “Sorry for getting your hopes up for a happy ending, but they just don’t happen.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Ichiro sighed, “I am not a writer. That’s your dream.”

From the corner of her eye, Izumi watched him, curious as to what he was trying to say.

“I may not be a writer, but couldn’t you, I don’t know, change the ending? It’s not finished until the writer says it is, right?”

“This writer says it is.” she huffed and crossed her arms.

“Could I possibly help you come up with a different ending?”

“I don’t need your help.”

Ichiro only nodded, “You won't change the ending if I ask nicely, would you?”

Izumi remained silent, her face still away from him.

“Well, if you won't do it for me,” he nervously rubbed the back of his head, “Could you do it for yourself?”

Silence lingered for a long time. Ichiro was almost positive his heart had come to a halt waiting for her to answer. But with a labored sigh in defeat, Izumi finally spoke while her head was still to the side.

“I’ll consider it.”

Ichiro couldn’t stop the smile that took over his face, though it was small, it was uncontrollable. He started to rise from his seat, feeling as though he wasn’t going to get much more from her, as she seemed to be slowly getting softer with each passing response. “Thank you, Izumi. That’s all I have been wanting. It was my goal, after all.”

He chuckled as he made his way towards the door, hoping to tell Mizuki the good news first.

“Ichiro?”

He halted with his hand on the doorknob as he heard his first name for the first time. Turning over his shoulder, he saw her head was still turned away from him as she spoke again.

“I… love you, too.”

Heat surged to his face, prompting him to wince in embarrassment while his lips curved into a mix of smiles. Fighting back laughter, he turned his face skyward and let out a contented sigh. “I love you, too.”

Just beyond the doorway, he encountered Mizuki again. She stood there with teary eyes, attempting to conceal a smile. Ichiro rubbed the back of his head and returned the smile. “I don't think we have to say our goodbyes just yet.”

Rushing forward, Mizuki embraced him tightly, her face pressed into his chest as she spoke. “I don't know what you did, but thank you, Ishii! Thank you so much.”

With a soft chuckle, he lifted a hand and patted her head, causing her twin ponytails to sway with his movements. “I told you I'd look after her for you, didn't I?”