Of Teru Teru Bozu, Brain Mush, and Door Therapy

I held up my latest teru teru bozu, examining its lopsided smile. The face turned out way cuter than I intended - all round and chubby. Damn it, Kurumi's cutesy influence must be rubbing off on me.

"What do you think?" I showed to Little Shit. He squeaked and tried to eat it, but I yanked it away just in time.

The clouds outside my window were an unsettling shade of gray, far too dark for early June. Rainy season wasn't supposed to start for another week or two, but apparently the weather hadn't gotten that memo.

I hung my teru teru bozu next to my window, its overly cheerful face a stark contrast to the gloomy sky. My perfect test scores from last week's midterms lay scattered on my desk. All A's - Gran Gran couldn't complain about that.

My gaze drifted towards the neighboring houses. Not a single white doll in sight. Just last year, you couldn't walk down the street without seeing dozens of teru teru bozu swaying in the breeze - outside shops, homes, even KaiKool had them hanging on their windows.

Now mine hung alone, its smile almost mocking the emptiness around it. The rest of the town's windows stayed bare and dark, like everyone had forgotten how to hope for sunny days. Maybe they figured with all the kaiju around and the world ending, a little rain was the least of our problems.

***

I must've dozed off, because the next thing I knew, rain was hammering against my window. I cracked one eye open and reached for my phone, muscle memory guiding me straight to the Ypedia website.

"No flights from SF... Nothing from LAX either..." I mumbled, scrolling past an endless list of 'cancelled' notices before finally locking the screen and tossing my phone aside.

Little Shit tumbled off my chest as I forced myself up.

"Sorry," I mumbled, though I wasn't really. The piece of shit had hogged my blanket.

The TV droned from the living room. Gran Gran watching TV this early could only mean one thing - she was in weather denial mode.

"The sky should know when to rain properly!" Gran Gran's voice carried up the stairs. "Young Lady, you work for government. Do something about this!"

"Tatsuhara-san, I work for the Kaiju Quarantine Division. Weather control isn't my-"

"Pah! What good is the government if they can't even keep the rain away?"

I dragged myself to the living room, where the weather channel was showing ominous storm patterns over a map of Japan. The meteorologist pointed to a string of towns including Shibue, gesturing at swirling masses of clouds that definitely weren't natural.

--"Experts are baffled by these highly unusual weather formations. Multiple weather stations have reported-"

A fat raindrop splashed right on my nose, yanking my attention from the TV. I turned to glare at our apartment wall, where the Furnace Kaiju had done home improvement on.

Water trickled through the gaps and pooled on the living room floor. Funny thing is, my original savings - the ones Gran Gran swiped, by the way - were supposed to fix this mess. But according to her, contractors these days were running some kind of end-of-the-world scam, which is why she still hadn't spent a single yen.

"Those lazy bums!" She'd ranted last week. "Ten million yen for simple wall repair? They think because kaiju destroying everything, they can charge whatever they want and go drinking instead of working!"

I couldn't exactly argue that point. Still, as another raindrop landed right in my rice porriage, I was starting to think I'd have better luck moving into a cardboard box in Tokyo.

I slurped up the last of my soggy rice, letting the rain's pitter-patter drown out Gran Gran's weather rant. Most people would complain about the early rainy season, but I didn't mind. The steady sound of rain, the smell of wet earth, the way everything felt slower - it made it easier to forget about all the kaiju nonsense.

I grabbed my school bag and umbrella, then pulled on my rain boots. They were the cheap kind from the hundred-yen store, because what's the point of getting new ones when this might be the last rainy season we ever get?

Little Shit clung to my leg like a oversized, scaly leech. Sae waited by the door, Rhino bobbing gently beside her in balloon form.

"Got everything?"

I nodded. As we headed out, I noticed something massive and dark crammed into the apartment's shared garage. The Furnace Kaiju had somehow wedged himself in here, steam rising from his chest furnace despite the downpour.

Back when this place was full, the neighbors would've thrown a fit over a kaiju taking up their parking spots. Now the garage echoed with emptiness, just like most of Shibue after the end-of-the world announcement sent everyone running off to, well, anywhere but here.

I gave the Furnace Kaiju a small wave. He responded with a gentle puff of steam that mixed with the falling rain, creating a mini rainbow.

***

I watched Kurumi droop over her desk like a wilting flower. The rain drummed against the windows, creating the perfect backdrop for her theatrical suffering.

"I can't take it anymore," she moaned. "My brain is turning to mush."

"You say that like it's a recent development." Toukawa said, not looking up from her book.

"Toukawa-saaaan when will you stop being so meeean..."

Then came the familiar sound of Sae's textbook meeting Kurumi's head.

"Focus on your readings."

Kurumi tried - she really did. I watched her eyes scan the same line five times before she suddenly pushed back her chair with a screech.

"That's it! This rain is driving me crazy. I need a change of scenery!"

She marched toward the door. I glanced at my own textbook, then at Little Shit, who had woken up from the commotion.

Well, it's not like I was getting any studying done anyway.

I followed Kurumi into the hallway, and soon heard more footsteps behind me. Apparently everyone else had the same idea. 

I trudged behind Kurumi as she bounced from door to door down the hallway, throwing each one open with way too much enthusiasm for someone who'd been wilting moments ago.

"Do you actually have any idea what you're doing?" I asked, watching her peek into what must have been the tenth room.

"Nope! But opening doors is very cathartic, don't you think?"

Toukawa-san let out a sigh. "If this is just mindless door-opening, I'm going back to study."

"Aww, you're going to miss out!" Kurumi sing-songed, but Toukawa-san just waved dismissively.

"Yeah, whatever. Have fun with your... door therapy."

I watched Toukawa-san disappear down the hallway, but my feet kept moving forward anyway.

The next door Kurumi yanked open revealed what looked like a musical instrument graveyard. Cases were scattered everywhere - propped against walls, piled on desks, some even lying open on the floor. The band kids must have left them here temporarily, thinking they'd come back. But like everything else in this town, they just... never did.

A trumpet case caught my eye, perched in the corner like it was waiting for someone. Before I knew it, my feet were moving.

I reached out, fingers trembling as they brushed against the worn leather. The case creaked open, revealing a Yamaha.

Despite the layer of dust, the brass gleamed like it was trying to remember its glory days. I lifted it carefully, muscle memory from a lifetime ago kicking in as my fingers found their place on the valves. The metal felt cold against my skin, but somehow alive.

"Ryū-chan, do you play?" Kurumi materialized behind me, head tilted in curiosity.

"Sort of," I mumbled, carefully placing the trumpet back in its case. My throat tightened as I swallowed the rest of that sentence.

Mom used to.