Drowning In Silence

The rain poured endlessly, each drop hitting the pavement with a quiet rhythm. It drummed against rooftops, slid down windowpanes, and pooled in the cracks of the worn-out streets of Mizuhara. The town was shrouded in a gray haze, buildings blurred by the steady downpour. The world felt muted, as if wrapped in a veil of sorrow.

Kaizen stood at the edge of the street, gripping his umbrella loosely in his hand—but he didn’t open it.

Instead, he let the rain fall.

Cold droplets ran down his face, soaking his hair, seeping into the fabric of his blazer. His shoulders stiffened at the chill, but he didn’t move. His breath hitched.

And then, as if the weight inside him had cracked open, he closed his eyes and let the tears fall.

They blended with the rain, becoming indistinguishable from the sky’s sorrow.

It had been two years. Two years since she was taken away from him. Two years since he had lost the one person who understood him, the one who made him believe in something more than just existence.

And yet, here he was—still trapped in a time that had long moved on.

His hands trembled as he wiped at his face, but it was pointless. The rain disguised his grief, hid it from the world. But inside, it was still there—aching, suffocating, never fading.

A car rushed past, splashing water onto the sidewalk, but Kaizen barely noticed. His mind was somewhere else, lost in a past he could never return to.

He wanted to forget.

But he also didn’t want to.

Because forgetting meant letting go. And he wasn’t ready for that.

The school bell in the distance signaled that he was already late. It didn’t matter.

For now, he would stand in the rain, crying with it—until he could breathe again.