When the Rain Stopped Falling (Published under Pop Fiction)

6: Rain is Coming

My classes ended 4:00 in the afternoon. Specifically, I had five classes this day. Earlier, from the library, after one hour I went to my class at the right time. We had the usual first day of class scenarios like an introduction of oneself in front of the class and introduction to the subject. Surprisingly, some of my classmates bonded quickly with each other though I don't think that they known each other before. I guess some people can find their match right in an instant. Of course, I was alone. Nobody talked to me and I don't want to be the first to talk to somebody because I might look like a creep when I do that. So basically, I didn't talk to anyone this day and my mouth felt so dry and useless.

I had no plans after class so I decided to walk home when a thunderclap made me look at the dark sky. Rain is coming, I told myself. I better get going. As usual, the streets of Manila is still filled with people walking at every direction that I had to brush my way out. A few obnoxious people had to really bump me so hard in the shoulder because I think they're in a hurry and plainly oblivious to the presence of other people's shoulder. It was asphyxiating as I move with the crowd of people that doesn't seem to care about anyone else. Who am I anyway for them to be bothered, huh? People are so narcissistic. They think that they are the center of the Universe. While I'm in the traffic of humans, I felt a cold drop of rain poured onto my head. I looked up and caught a few more raindrops. It's already raining.

As if the rain could melt human flesh, the crowd of people started to panic and scattered like ants bumping to each other. Unfortunately, I wasn't prepared for this rain since the sky was clear earlier in the morning so I hadn't brought an umbrella just like everyone else. The first thing I noticed, as a solution, was a covered waiting shed and so I ran towards it. But before I could get there, people had the same idea as mine and already occupied all the seats.

I sighed in defeat. Suddenly I grew tired of trying so hard in this place. Right in the first time I went in this place, I could always feel so tired and lifeless. Maybe I don't belong to this place. I hate this place. I hate moving away from dad. I hate living here. I hate this crowd of people. If dad was here, he might have said: "I told you so, princess!". In hindsight, dad hadn't texted me or called me since yesterday. Maybe he had forgotten about her daughter.

I had lost the reason to hurry and find a cover since I'm already drenched by the outburst of rain when I spotted a lonely tree. I think I'm already out of my mind since I decided to stay under it and wallow as if I'm waiting for something great to happen like the rain would stop pouring and the jolly old sun would lavishly shine its rays on my body and make me dry and warm. Or maybe I'm waiting for the rain to turn into liquid chocolate so I could bathe and eat chocolate at the same time. That was my dream, anyway.

I'm not the person who blindly believes in destiny. To think that destiny exist is something so marvel and scary. Marvelous in a way that we had all something secure for ourselves and we have nothing to worry about. The scary part is that we can do nothing about it since it is already planned. I remembered Stephen Hawking, a famous scientist, implying that if someone believes in destiny, they should cross the street without looking at both ways.

I wasn't exactly waiting for something specific. And I'm not definitely waiting for someone. But it just surprised me when the rain stopped pouring on my head when a boy covered me with his umbrella. He looked familiar and at the same time he's still a stranger. He was smiling at me, looking at me, as if we've known each other for a long time.

"Thank you for the umbrella, though I don't need that anymore," I said to him trying to be polite.

He didn't react until he fiddled with his bag all too suddenly that scared me a little because he might be some criminal trying to mug me. But instead, he only brought out a sports towel offering it to me.

"No, I don't need a towel," I waved my hand to dismissively but he still insist on giving me his towel. I began to get annoyed in him and so scrutinized his face and perceived that he looks like a Korean. Maybe he doesn't understand what I'm saying. "No, I don't need you," I repeated. Then I tried to remember all the Koreanovelas I watched so that he could understand me. "Ani-yo?" I mumbled to him. Yes, that's about right. Ani-yo means no in Korean as far I could tell. "Ani-yo," I restated then he laughed. Did I say it wrong?

"Sumimasen," he said cheerfully. Is he expecting me to understand Korean? And do I look like a Korean? Well, I think that's nice but I don't think I do. "That's sorry in Japanese," the man suddenly spoke. "I'm Japanese, not um let me guess Korean?"

"Oh, I feel so so racist right now." I murmured making him laugh again.

"That's alright. I always get that."

"I'm sorry. And even if I know you're Japanese I don't know how to speak any. I don't watch Anime that much."

"How many times I would tell you," he stood close beside me chuckling, "it's not pronounced as ah-nee-may, it's pronounced as ah-nee-meh."

How many times? "I'm sorry but I just met you so,"

"Yeah, you just met me," his eyes sparkled. This guy is very weird. One, because he talks to me as if we knew each other and two he seemed to be prepared for the rain. I mean, he has an umbrella and he's wearing a jacket as if he knew that it's going to rain. Or maybe I'm just over-interpret things again. "I'm Nikolas Yamazawa, by the way. And use this towel or you'll get cold."

To satisfy him, I reached for his towel and used it to dry myself a little. "I'm Elois Browers," I introduced. I noticed that the brightness of his smile faded.

"Here, use this jacket so you'll feel warm," Nikolas removed his navy blue jacket with yellow insides and wrapped it around me. I don't want to be rude so once again I accepted his help. He's right, his jacket was warm and cozy. And it also smelled wonderful. "Don't worry I'm not being a pervert," he kid. Why is he being so nice to me? Are all people here in Manila is as straightforward as he is?

"Say Elois," he whispered with a low tone in his voice. Suddenly the background noise of the rain pouring was silenced as if he muted it. "Can I ask you out?"