Volume 3 – Chapter 21: We Start Today

Date: August 22

Last 39 Days

The day broke slowly, sunlight filtering like a reluctant beam of warmth through the clouds. This time, Kaito woke before Rika—barely; her breathing beside him was quiet, steady. Peaceful. It felt like the first time in ages that anything had been that calm in their lives. Peaceful.

He sat upright, careful not to jostle her awake, and looked over at the list they had written yesterday. A tiny folded piece of paper lay flat on the small wooden table beside their bed, as if it had been put there awaiting the moment to shine. They had said they would start today, so why not?

Kaito glanced out the window. The air looked soft enough to rain. Maybe it would; maybe that was a sign.

He hurriedly jotted a note on the paper and scrawled across the top: "Come outside. Wear something you don't mind getting soaked."

Next to her pillow, he left the note and slipped away soundlessly.

---

Approximately twenty minutes later, Rika found the note. She blinked down at Kaito's almost indecipherable script before glancing into the empty space where the imprint of Kaito's body still generating warmth remained. She smiled involuntarily. It is quite interesting how such a simple thing could mean so much.

She wrapped up in a light hoody and wore the jeans, then walked after Kaito's ghost.

"But then he'd gone and cut himself off from anyone who might listen. Like, in the middle of a clearing that opened behind the safehouse, with both hands in his pockets, he stood gazing up at the gray sky. The clouds overhead suddenly seemed heavier. The smell of impending rain was in the earthen air; raw.

"I thought maybe it would wait," Kaito said without turning around, "but it's gonna come down."

Rika stepped up beside him. "Good. Two down on the list, huh?"

He turned and glanced sideways at her. "You remember?"

"Of course I do," she said, grinning.

And then, like an invocation, the first drop of rain hit in the instant after her words, onto her cheek. Another. One more. Then, in seconds, a downpour began, cold and relentless, drenching their hair, soaking their clothing, stinging their skin.

Neither moved.

Kaito tilted his face up to the heavens, eyes shut. "You ever think some simple stuff like this was once a nuisance?" he said. "Getting caught in the rain on the walk home. Wet shoes. Cold fingers."

"I despised it," Rika laughed between her shivers. "Now I think it's wonderful."

They stood there while the rain soaked everything, turning the area into a mud patch. They stood there until their clothes were stuck to their skin and their hair was forever in their eyes.

And then suddenly, she reached out-and grabbed his hand. "Come on."

"What?"

"Dance with me."

"In the rain?"

"Yes," she insisted, tugging him a little bit closer. "You're too serious all the time. Just one song, okay? Even if we have to make one up."

He hesitated for a second, then he smiled.

They had no music now, only the rain marking their own beat. But one thing was certain—his hands moved around her waist, with her guiding them through their first shuffles, slowing now and then into an awkward giggle, just an easy laugh that comes when you forget the laughter.

His heart was beating louder than the rain. He felt hers thudding against his chest..

It wasn’t perfect. But maybe that’s what made it beautiful.

---

Soaking and shivering to death, they returned within. Rika itself used to wrap herself with a towel as Kaito rummaged through an old box filled with clothes, handing her a dusty but nice-colored hoodie and a pair of dry socks.

She took them with a grin. “Number two: complete.”

He nodded, checking it off the list with a pencil. “So what’s next?”

She scanned the paper. “Number three.”

Kaito paused. His hand lingered over the line:

“Tell our families everything. No more secrets.”

Rika’s smile faltered.

Neither of them spoke for a while.

"Do you think they will even pick up?" he inquired.

"I don't know. But if they do pick up... we can't really wait much longer."

Kaito peered out the window again. The rain was over. And somehow, the exterior world looked cleaner, even if just an illusion of the light.

"Let's do it tomorrow," he concluded. “Together.”

Rika nodded. “Okay.”

And then, quieter: “Kaito?”

He looked at her.

“Thank you,” she said. “For dancing.”

He smiled again—genuine, soft. “Thank you for asking.”

That night, they fell asleep listening to the distant dripping of rain outside the window and the soft rustle of the paper list between them—proof that even in a dying world, they were still writing something worth remembering.