Leka fanfiction - 'Those Rainy Days'

Those Rainy Days

by Jannah P.

Whenever it rained heavily, she scowled at the sky as if she would be able to change the weather with just a look. Perhaps it would have stopped raining had she smiled; she'd never tried that. She never smiled. She believed smiling to be against her nature. So, she scowled at the sky and glanced at her watch at irregular intervals.

"She's late." The girl scowled. "I shouldn't have expected anything less." She stood underneath the awning of a closed deli, wrinkling her nose whenever a raindrop happened past the awning's cover to land on or near her person. Her clothes were soaked, clinging to her body in a way she didn't fancy in the least. Her hair hung limply in its ponytail, no longer spiked in the back as she liked it.

The rain beat a steady rythm on the awning, causing her face to darken even more. She checked her watch again, then cursed in disgust. What was the use of deluding herself? Her mother had probably forgotten to pick her up. It wouldn't be the first time. She practically cursed herself for not having brought an umbrella, despite her grandmother's warning of the weather forecast. She had made it a habit not to listen to anyone's judgment but her own.
Makino Ruki stared into the street, the rain creating a thin veil to her vision. Cars and older children on bikes buzzed past, on their separate ways to their homes, no doubt. There was nothing that could be done, since the weather refused to achknowledge her scowls. She stepped out from under the awning, holding her school satchel above her head as a crude substitute for an umbrella. She would have to walk the distance home.

"Damn rain," Ruki muttered, hardly vocalizing her true thoughts on the situation. She seemed a solitary figure along the sidewalk, and felt pretty much the same. There was no need to hurry, really. Her satchel would be thoroughly soaked long before she reached her house, leaving her without protection from the weather.

"Won't make a scrap of difference," she said with a fresh scowl. Her pace slowed, if anything. Soon, the effort of simply holding the satchel above her head grew too tiresome and she tucked it under her arm. The rain seemed to be seeking her out, as if to ensure she would not arrive home with a dry inch on her person.

Unwittingly, her thoughts turned to the days before she became a tamer. She had never been happy, of course. Before or after becomming a tamer. Just - Renamon had made her slightly more aware of her ability for compassion and friendship. They were useless emotions, of course. Completely useless. Her eyes focussed on the park near the public elementary school. She had never visited it, although her grandmother had suggested enrolling the girl as the first option. Her mother had disagreed.
It was most likely that last thought that compelled her to change her course towards the park. The sky had darkened, covered in grays, violets and dark blues. Heavy clouds blotted out the sun, which was probably well below the horizon anyway. The park reminded her of a children's playground for the most part. Without thinking, she seated herself on one of the cold, drenched swings and leaned her head against one of the supporting ropes keeping the swing in place.
She must have fallen asleep, for the sudden absence of rain pounding on her face woke her. She glanced up, startled, into an open umbrella. Holding it was a boy. She scowled for what must have been the eighth time that afternoon and stood, flinging the swing away from her body in the same motion.

"I don't need your pathetic sympathy," she growled, purposely stepping away from the shade of the umbrella.

"I'm not offering it," he replied quietly and calmly. Too calmly. Her eyes narrowed, but he made no effort to move towards or away from her. She became aware almost immediately of her drenched clothes and the disheveled condition of her hair. Showing weakness was not an option.

"Why the hell'd you follow me, then?" she demanded.

"I didn't." Another long pause.

"I don't want - or need - company."

"That's fine," he replied. Still, he remained where he was. So did she. They udoubtedly looked like quite a pair - her, soaking wet and still standing out in the downpour and him, calmly standing beside the swing holding an umbrella above his head.

"Where's that long-eared rat of your's?" Maybe if she insulted him enough, he would leave her and she could continue on her way.

"Terriermon? He's at home."

"Then you did follow me!" she exclaimed angrilly, wishing Terriermon was with him to provide her some satisfation when Renamon defeated the smaller digital monster. Lee Jenrya shook his head.

"I come here to think sometimes, when it rains."

"Yea, well, that's just great for you," Ruki answered, her voice sharp "so I'll just leave you to those voices in your head." She turned and headed away from Lee at a surprisingly quick rate.

"You might want an umbrella to shield yourself from the rain," Lee called after her, closing his umbrella and tossing it to the side of her feet. She halted in mid-step, staring down at the umbrella as rain beat down upon it, her and Lee. She reached down and picked it up, turning as she did so.

"I don't need it." She extended her arm, the umbrella clutched in her tightened fist, towards Lee. He shrugged.

"I don't really need it either."

Ruki stared at the umbrella, making a disgusted sound in the back of her throat Despite her words, she did need an umbrella; she hadn't ceased cursing herself for neglecting to bring one. With a toss of her drenched orange locks, she opened the umbrella and held it above her head. Lee leaned against one of the supporting poles of the swingset, seemingly oblivious to her. After a moment of violet eyes boring into the side of the boy's head, she spoke.

"I suppose you plan to come to my house to retrieve it, hmm?" Her eyes had narrowed again. "I've had enough of you and your goggle-headed friend bothering me at home. It's enough I have to deal with you two as the pathetic excuses for tamers you are without you intruding on me at home."

"You can keep it, then." He didn't even turn to face her.

"You expect me to believe that?"

"Believe what you want." He was far too calm, too cool. She took several steps back toward him, practically shoving the umbrella into his face.

"I don't want it," she repeated angrilly. He shrugged and took it from her outstretched hand. She turned to leave, only to find the open umbrella hovering above her head again. She opened her mouth to yell at him, but he spoke before she could utter a word.

"Misery may not love company, but it appreciates it."

"Whatever." The umbrella remained hovering above her head as they left the park; Two silent among the steady beat of the rain.

~ end ~