Chapter 10 — “Rain Over the Sea”

The rain came in sheets that morning — thick, unrelenting, like the sky was trying to wash something away.

The classrooms were empty, save for the rhythmic tapping against the windows. The sea below Saint Elora’s cliffs churned a deep, metallic gray.

Himari sat alone by the window, chin resting on her hand, watching the world blur.

Mizuki hadn’t come to class.

No message. No excuse. Nothing.

At first, Himari told herself it didn’t matter.

Then she caught herself checking the hallway every few minutes.

By lunch, her stomach ached with something that wasn’t hunger.

---

When the final bell rang, she went searching.

Mizuki’s dorm was empty, her bed neatly made — too neatly, like someone pretending to still belong there.

Himari’s pulse rose. Her reflection in the mirror looked paler than usual.

She clutched the choker around her neck — the one Mizuki had made — and stepped out into the storm.

---

The path to the coast was steep and muddy.

Wind slapped her face, rain soaked through her uniform until it clung to her skin.

She found Mizuki where she always went when she needed quiet — the cliffside bench overlooking the gray waves.

Mizuki sat without an umbrella, her hair plastered to her cheeks, sketchbook open on her lap.

The page was blank.

---

“Mizuki!”

Himari’s voice cracked through the rain.

Mizuki turned slowly. Her smile was faint, almost ghostlike.

“You’ll catch a cold,” Himari said breathlessly.

“You came.”

“Of course I did.”

“You shouldn’t have.”

That last sentence hit Himari like a slap.

---

She stood there for a moment, soaked, heart pounding.

“Why didn’t you come to class?”

“I didn’t feel like it.”

“You could’ve told me.”

Mizuki looked back at the ocean. “Would it have changed anything?”

The question dug under Himari’s skin.

She stepped closer, kneeling so their faces were level. “I worry about you, you know.”

“I know.”

“Then why—”

Mizuki finally met her eyes. There was no warmth in them now — just exhaustion.

“You don’t worry for me, Himari. You worry about losing me.”

Himari froze.

“That’s not true.”

“Then take off the choker.”

Himari’s breath hitched. “What?”

“You heard me.”

---

The rain softened for a moment, like the world was listening.

Himari’s hand went to her neck. The velvet felt heavier now.

“Why should I?”

“Because it’s mine,” Mizuki said quietly. “And you don’t belong to anyone.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Is it?”

Himari’s voice trembled. “You gave it to me. You said it looked best when I couldn’t breathe.”

Mizuki laughed — bitter, broken. “You believed that?”

“I—”

“Everything I said was just a way to keep you looking at me.”

Her voice cracked. “But now I see it — you don’t want me, Himari. You want to own me.”

---

Himari grabbed her wrist. “Stop saying that.”

Mizuki flinched, but didn’t pull away. “It’s true.”

“I love you.”

“Do you?” Mizuki’s tone was almost gentle. “Or do you love that I love you more?”

The silence that followed was unbearable.

Himari felt something in her chest twist, painfully tight.

The sea roared beneath them, swallowing her heartbeat.

---

She stood slowly. “You’re wrong.”

“Then prove it,” Mizuki whispered. “Take it off.”

Himari shook her head.

“No.”

Tears mixed with the rain. “If I take it off, I’ll disappear.”

Mizuki’s eyes widened slightly — not with fear, but pity.

“You already are disappearing.”

---

The choker felt suffocating now.

Her fingers twitched against it — she wanted to pull it tighter, make sure it was still there.

“Don’t leave me,” she whispered.

“I’m not leaving,” Mizuki said softly. “I’m just… remembering who I was before you.”

Himari’s hands shook. “You can’t.”

Mizuki closed the sketchbook, stood, and took a step closer.

For a heartbeat, their foreheads touched. The rain fell harder, drowning the world around them.

> “You taught me what love looks like,” Mizuki said. “Now I have to learn how to live without it.”

---

When Mizuki walked away, her white shoes disappeared into the fog.

Himari stayed, frozen by the sea, the wind clawing at her uniform.

The waves crashed violently against the rocks, like something begging to be broken.

She fell to her knees.

The mud smeared against her palms, and for the first time, she cried — not out of heartbreak, but from the realization that she wasn’t capable of love at all.

---

Later, back in her dorm room, the rain still tapping the windows, she wrote in her diary:

> “It’s strange. I never wanted to be loved.

I just wanted someone who couldn’t leave.”

She stared at the page for a long time, then added,

> “If I can’t have her, I’ll make sure no one else does.”

The ink bled slightly from the rain still on her fingers.

Outside, thunder rumbled over the sea —

and somewhere, a girl in another room touched her neck,

feeling the phantom weight of a choker that wasn’t there anymore.