A/N: I've been depressed for a while now. I have absolutely no idea why, but I am. And there was also Eriol's birthday to think of (it's my b-day today, too) and I just wanted to give him something. So this is my present. Sorry for the sloppiness of this fic this is the unedited version; I'm too tired to do anything about it right now, maybe later.

Disclaimers: Yadda, yadda, yadda. No own. Blah, blah, blah.

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Sotto La Pioggia

The rain hit the glass with an audible 'plop', the droplets sliding across the vertical surface and plunging to the earth below. Eriol glanced looked up from the book he was reading, though he'd already read it before (there were many of those kinds of novels in the school library), and glanced at the sky outside the window. The sky was a mesh of torrent clouds, a proverbial battlefield where the gloom fought to be even more dismal. Those same clouds resembled sails, heavy and wanton with rain.

Eriol sighed, glancing at the book in front of him. He didn't realize until then that he was almost finished with it, just as he didn't remember processing any of it. The classroom was empty, save for him and rows upon rows of neat desks. The silence in the room was resounding, almost taunting him. While every one of his classmates was home, snuggled on the warm couch, popcorn and other snacks at ready, he was stranded in school.

When the heavens unleashed its vengeance upon the earth, drowning out the feeble sunrays, Eriol decided to stay in school, just until the downpour abated. He was not fond of getting wet and cold, and he didn't have an umbrella or even a warm coat to shield him from the onslaught. Besides, he thought a moment of silence, to just think, would be a nice break; Nakuru's constant banter wasn't as uplifting lately.

And so, Eriol sat in his designated seat, a useless book spread open before him, watching as raindrops descended down.

An empty classroom, devoid of movement, of thought, of being (since the purpose of the classroom is to receive students, it is nothing without them); and that's how Eriol felt at the moment. There was a dull ache in his chest, and though he had millennia worth of knowledge, he couldn't quite comprehend the source of this pain. It was a lingering, momentary, yet overwhelming. It consumed all of him, centred in his heart, his very soul and spread outward. The best way to describe it, he thought, was emptiness. He felt neither hungry nor full, almost half of something. The sensation was weightless, and at the same time heavy, pressing on him.

Eriol wondered why he was what he was. He didn't chose to be born, didn't chose to be a part of Clow Reed. Why, then, was he stuck with the gargantuan weight of it? All this knowledge had made him feel old, ancient in fact, as if he wasn't truly there, not seeing the world through his own eyes. All the wisdom in the world – the universe – could not bring you happiness. It might bring you enlightenment, resolution and even contentment, but those did not compare to true, heartfelt happiness. Eriol wanted to feel it, to at least glimpse it once during his lifetime.

He had Nakuru and Spinel Sun, of course, but that wasn't the same. They were his supports, his balance reels. He did not need them for survival, but, rather, for stabilisation. Eriol craved for the comfort of having someone other than his guardians appreciate him. He wanted someone to see him as he was, instead of the geeky boy with glasses and smart retorts. Neither did he want to be seen – or remembered – as the incarnation of Clow Reed. He didn't want to live his life as a lie, anymore.

It was his birthday today. Nobody knew, though (his guardians excluded). He had purposely withdrawn that information, as if it wasn't real, was a lie. If he thought too deeply on it, maybe it was his attempt to pretend that he didn't exist. After all, people who are not there cannot age, cannot feel; they are empty air, fruitless fantasies. When Sakura asked what was wrong that morning, Eriol smiled, as per usual, a personified Cheshire cat, and said it was 'just nothing.'

He reprimanded himself later for that. He told himself adamantly that he wasn't running away from the truth, wasn't hiding it, but was dealing with it in his own special way. Eriol would rather withhold the truth than hurt an innocent. And so, he smiled and nodded in the typical Eriol fashion, while inside, the emptiness was becoming bigger, chipping chunks away from his core.

The rain outside refused to relent, and so the sky was a foxknot of grey. With a sigh, he pushed himself gracefully to his feet. It was getting late, Nakuru would bite his head off for 'missing his birthday'; he wasn't up to a verbal fight with the guardian. The raven-haired boy picked up the book on the desk and shoved it haphazardly into his knapsack, not really caring that it disrupted the order in the bag.

The halls were just as silent as the classroom, not even the pitter-patter of rain disturb the solemnity, only the resonance of his shoes clicking against the tiles. It was eerie, to say the least, for a school to be so quiet; it really made you wonder some things. Almost at the door leading outside, Eriol picket up the collar of his school shirt, buttoning the first two buttons (he undone them earlier in the day) and prepared himself for the moisture.

Outside, Eriol stood within the boundaries of a protective porch, not daring enough to face the rain head-on. The entire front yard was drenched, little pools of water forming even at his feet. His observation of the court fell short when his sapphire eyes landed on a particular figure. Tomoyo...

She stood in the middle of the yard, arms outstretched, palms up in welcoming to the rain, to the skies. Her head was also tilted upward, eyes closed, lips stretched in a content half-smile. Her hair was a rope of drenched silk; some strands were plastered to her forehead, partially hiding her eyes. Her backpack was laying aimlessly some distance off, the uniform jacket joining it on the ground. Tomoyo's simple white blouse clung to her like second skin, allowing some areas of pale skin to be exposed due to the wetness. Eriol felt the back of his ears begin to heat up; no wonder half the male population had a never-ending stack of tissue boxes in their lockers.

He remained silent, just watching Tomoyo stand, any, prey to the heavens. The rain had its own melody, its own rhythm, a beat that transcended anything fathomable. As if in slow motion, Eriol saw Tomoyo begin to move to the ethereal music, swinging her arms high above her head, as if trying to touch those clouds, her hips swaying gently. In a blink of an eye, it seemed, her movement had turned into an intricate dance. Eriol was too afraid of moving, of breathing, for even that would shatter the dream.

When he had regained some control on his senses, Eriol found Tomoyo in front of him, looking up with dark eyes, smiling softly.

"What are you doing?" He managed to breathe out, still half-dreaming.

She smiled at him some more, then in a voice just barely above a whisper, she said, "You can lose yourself in the rain."

"What... do you mean?"

"You don't think, you just are," she replied, and at that instant, he thought that maybe she, too, was half dreaming, or maybe a dream entirely. "You forget that you exist, forget everything. There is just rain hitting your face and this sensation of freedom."

"I don't think I understand you," he whispered back.

All of a sudden, she had his hand grasped in her moist one, pulling him with her into the rain. He protested feebly, but did not try to stop her. When she stopped, Tomoyo dropped his hand and looked up to the skies, Eriol followed suit. The water beat down on him, sliding off the surface of his glasses; he removed the pesky instrument. The rain was running down his face, getting into his eyes and mouth. It was salty, bitter, but nice at the same time.

And suddenly, he didn't care that it was his birthday, that he was lonely and miserable, that he was soaked to underwear and that he'll most likely catch a cold. Water was sliding between his shoulder blades, and he didn't care that it was cold and sent tingles up his spine. There was just the rain, releasing all its tension on him, loosening his at the same time. He n o longer felt empty, he felt free, just as Tomoyo said. He didn't have the knowledge weighing down on him, just the physical sensation of rain on his skin and lips.

Out here, there was no need for pretence, for hiding or running, everything was naked and exposed. Tomoyo was beside him, also looking at the grey sky, and then he wasn't looking up anymore and staring into her indigo eyes. She smiled at him, her eyes looking oddly light and hazy despite the darkness, and leaned in. Without even thinking, Eriol leaned in, too. They met somewhere in-between, like dual images finally connecting, touching at the lips. The kiss was chaste, friendly almost, undemanding and teasing.

When they pulled apart, Eriol's eyes had doubled in size, his still tingling mouth left askew. His heart hammered loudly in his chest and his ears. Words tried to escape his mouth, but he found his lungs to be full of the sent of rain.

Tomoyo smiled again and brushed at a stray strand of his hair. "Happy birthday, Hiiragizawa-kun," she whispered before turning around and going to pick up her backpack.

Eriol just stood there, watching her retrieving back, still too shocked to move. The rain still pounded on him when he reached a slender finger to touch his lips. He could taste her on them; she tasted of a combination of rain and vanilla, very pleasing to the senses.

~*~*~*~*~

The next day passed by as a blur. Eriol was not able to fall asleep all night long, still remembering their secret tryst. He got home late and soaked, at which Nakuru fretted and raved, but he ignored her, dazed. He felt dizzy that day, perhaps he was getting sick, like Spinel suggested, but he refused to listen to them. He asked Nakuru how Tomoyo found out about his birthday, and though a bit unwilling, Ruby Moon confessed to the crime. During school, he kept on stealing glances at Tomoyo, his hands itching to tap her on the shoulder, to say something to her. Each time the urge seized him, a part of him always protested, and so he would lose his nerve.

At lunch, he waited for everyone to leave the classroom, making sure that Tomoyo was the only one remaining beside him. Once alone, Eriol looked at her, fidgeting slightly. She still smiled and did not rush him.

"...Thanks for the present. I loved it."

The girl nodded, offering her hand to him. "I'll always be glad to do anything for you."

Eriol smiled back at her, taking her hand in his, and together they made their way outside, where the sun had dried the earth from the previous day. He might not have found true happiness, but he was getting there, he could feel it. Maybe if he just let himself be, stopped worrying about the outcome of things, he could find peace. And besides, he had Tomoyo on his side, now.

~*La fine*~