Rendezvous Under the Rain (continued)

Long moments of silence took over their conversation as the storm raged on. The noise from the rain forced the two of them to speak louder than they usually did, making it uncomfortable to compete with the sounds of nature. Finally, Aoi broke the silence once more.

“Mika, what do you want to achieve with your music?”

“I suppose, I want to make others happy with it, just like it made me.”

“Is that how you started?” asked Aoi.

Mika took a few moments, thinking back on the past, deciding if she should share those memories with Aoi.

“You know I…” said Mika, downcast. “My father gave me the guitar you’ve seen me play.”

“Your father? You don’t talk about him much.”

Mika let the storm fill the silence for a few moments before talking again.

“He brought my mother from overseas, and they raised me here together for several years. He was never really around, but at some point, he gave me that guitar and rewarded me for learning songs.”

“What happened next?”

“I kept going. I tried my hardest to learn the songs, but in the end, my father left anyway, and we didn’t see him at home anymore. My mother seemed sad, and I knew something had happened, but there was nothing I could do, I was just a young girl that was obsessed with the guitar and singing. I felt like it was my fault that he left.”

“You know that’s not true…”

“I do now, but back then, I became even more obsessed with the one thing that reminded me of him. I didn’t have any friends either. They thought I didn’t understand the language, and I looked foreign... It was just me and my mom. Music was all I had to feel connected.”

Aoi sensed the conversation was turning as dark as the skies, and gave some room to Mika to explain the rest.

“It’s a cruel thing to tell a kid that they’re good at something. It became who I was. And when my father was not around to say it anymore, I tried to get others to love me for it instead, and it worked. I could make other kids and adults happy, and they would again say that I was good at it.”

“And how is that a bad thing?”

“Because it was a cycle that just kept on going. Music became who I was. And then I came to Tokyo, and I realized… I’ve never been good, I’m nothing. In this city, I’m just a quiet voice in a corner, just an abandoned channel on the internet, a singer ignored among thousands that are simply better than me. How can I make others happy like this?”

“Is that truly what you want with your music Mika, to make others happy?” Aoi asked.

Mika started crying, and Aoi felt it deep in his heart. He hadn't felt that way in a long time. Aoi, who constantly analyzed music, understood the scale and quality of the competition she was facing, and how overwhelming the comparisons were.

“Mika…” he said, as Mika’s crying mixed with the stormy sky. He found himself unable to offer comforting words, knowing the reality of the situation, even though he was willing to fight to change that reality. “I remember you told me you wouldn’t let me say negative things about your music anymore.”

Mika paused her crying as she remembered the determination she had slowly built up, on her train trip out of the city, and during their conversations.

“I think you’ve kept that promise,” he said.

“I don’t believe you,” she replied quickly.

“It’s true.” Aoi paused, knowing his next words would be vital. “Don’t get me wrong. I think your belief is naive.” Mika seemed to feel a mixture of confusion and shock. “It would be impossible for someone to make art that someone else didn’t find something negative about. It’s part of the process. But you take that feedback and get better. Over and over again. And sometimes it’s good feedback, and sometimes you must choose to ignore it.”

Mika remained silent, softly crying as she sat across the table from Aoi.

“But I can see you’re trying your best and-” Aoi slowed down. “That should be enough for you too.” Aoi tried to make eye contact with Mika, but she seemed lost looking at the storm.

“My best? How does that change anything, when my best isn’t enough!” Mika shook with frustration.

The difficulty level of the conversation had gone far past Aoi’s comfort. For Aoi, Mika’s skills were more than enough for her to achieve her goals, if that’s what she really wanted. But her emotions were in complete disarray, and he was used to either abandoning such situations, or interacting with people like Eiko, who never seemed to need a helping hand. Mika appeared to be on a collision course. Aoi’s attempts seemed to accelerate the situation instead, but he still tried.

“Seeing you try so hard. I do feel sad sometimes, it feels painful. I sometimes feel like you’re trying too hard.” Aoi was starting to show signs of being affected by Mika’s mood, as his words broke up somewhat. “All you want is to make others happy, don’t you? Seeing you try your hardest has been enough to… help me keep going too. You gave me a goal, and a purpose as well.”

But Aoi’s words failed to please Mika, who was far too gone at that point. In her current state, she was just unable to see the good her music could bring. Mika’s sobbing slowly intensified. Her desperation reached its limit, and she felt like she needed a way out of the conversation. She tried to run to her room to hide, but Aoi, realizing what she was about to do, was too quick for her, and blocked the hallway with his arm.

“Let me through,” said Mika, covered in tears.

“I can’t do that.”

“Why?”

“Because if I let you through that door, I feel like I would regret it forever,” he said, with some sadness in his voice.

At that point Mika started crying intensely, her legs gave out as she slid down the wall before Aoi, and she sat on the floor, burying her face in her hands. Aoi awkwardly stood beside her for a minute, and then sat down next to her, offering tissues to her. She kept crying for a couple of minutes, and the two of them remained silent, as the sound of the storm echoed through the quiet apartment.

“How did I become like this?” said Mika in despair.

Aoi simply sat by her side, letting her cry all her pain away.

“This is very important to you, and too much is at risk. It’s fine to feel like giving up sometimes. When that happens, don’t force yourself. You don’t need to pretend to be strong in front of me.”

“Is that what you do? Pretend to be strong?” asked Mika weakly.

“I simply… don’t feel that way.” Aoi sighed as he answered.

“Sounds like a blessing,” said Mika, somewhat jealous.

“It’s not.”

Mika continued crying, but the sharp pain slowly went away, and she regained some of her composure, despite still looking sad.

“How can I make others happy, if I can’t even understand how to make myself happy?”

Aoi sat there deep in thought, thinking about his own experiences.

“I don’t think I can understand happiness either,” he said calmly. “So I don’t think I can answer that question for you.”

Mika finally looked at Aoi once again, who tried to give her a warm smile without realizing it.

“But I think,” said Aoi, who took a deep breath, “being in the situation that you are in, there’s something you can do. It is because you’ve experienced pain that you can understand it better, and help others out of it. What you think of as a flaw, can actually help you achieve your goal.” Aoi’s words finally seemed to have made a positive impact on Mika, as she remained deep in thought rather than in distress. Seeing progress, Aoi dared to press further. “I can’t begin to understand the fate you’ve been forced into. Your genes, your upbringing, they can be cruel reminders of things you can’t change,” he said. Mika still sat there quietly, thinking. “I can’t judge you for a past you haven’t chosen. But I will judge you for the choices you do have in front of you.”

Mika was still sitting on the floor, looking dejected. Aoi knew these feelings weren’t something that could be fixed overnight, but he felt any lack of effort on his part would lead to regret. Mika kept trying to say something, but she seemed to stop short every time she tried to start talking, but eventually, she got enough courage to speak once more.

“Do you even care? You say all these things with barely any emotion…" Mika paused for a few seconds, thinking about her lonely past. She couldn't avoid feeling some sadness. "Even if I've managed to go through most of my life by myself, how am I supposed to do this alone, in such a scary place?” asked Mika quietly, leaning her head on the wall as she looked around the apartment. Aoi rose off the floor, and he looked at the ongoing storm outside the window. He then looked at Mika, who remained sitting down.

“You’re assuming wrong Mika, about both things,” Mika looked up at Aoi confused. “I care about you,” he said without hesitation. Mika looked away from Aoi, feeling embarrassed by his sudden kindness.

“And also, you don’t have to do this alone.” Aoi offered his hand to help Mika stand up. After a few moments of hesitation Mika took his hand, and stood up in front of him. They remained hand in hand, looking into each other's eyes as the storm in the background slowly roared away and subsided, and their feelings took over instead. Mika's face slowly lit up once more.

“I… care about you too.”