Just a oneshot that ended up getting longer than I expected it to. Hitomi-angst; that sort of stuff. Hope you like it. This is set just pre-series (Well, the present tense is). I own nothing.

It was a warm summer's day, the air still smelling of rain from a recent downpour. They'd gone up the hill, the four of them, Madoka holding a basket full of snacks her father had made or bought. The four of them ascended the gently rolling hill, Sayaka far in the lead, Kyousuke and Madoka walking a little more slowly, and Hitomi bringing up the rear, left a little ways behind, just as she always was.

That didn't matter, though. It was such a nice day, a soft breeze playing with her hair, and it wasn't often that Hitomi got to be with her friends. There was so much going on in her life that Hitomi could barely steal any time away to be with her friends. Anything, anything at all, was better than nothing, and everyone was so happy.

-0-0-0-

That was such a long time ago.

It's always raining nowadays, Hitomi thinks, staring pensively out her window. It's been raining for days, the downpour like something out of myth. Hitomi hasn't seen a happy blue sky for days; it's only been dreary and gray. The lights flicker occasionally, within the confines of her cool, almost chilly room. All that breaks the resounding silence is the gentle patter of rain and intermittent thunder, dull and grumbling, too lazy to get up to a real roar.

How long ago was it? Two years? Three? Why am I even thinking of that now? Remembering things like that only hurts, what with everything that's happened since.

Hitomi glances around her room from her perch on the bed, silent, ears filled with the sound of steady rain. She looks on books and china dolls she hasn't played with in years. She looks on a thin strip of clothes visible through her slightly open closet door. She looks on board games she hardly ever takes out of their boxes, since there's rarely anyone to play them with. So many things to do, but no people to do them with. So many possessions, but all covered with a thin layer of dust from lack of use.

Maybe that's why she remembers. It's easier to remember the days when she was surrounded by friends, even if only for a little while, than it is to live in the days when she's almost never around them anymore.

-0-0-0-

They sat down on top of the hill, beneath the bright sun and a host of slowly roaming clouds. Madoka took out homemade onigiri and store-bought pocky and sunflower seeds.

"A true feast!" Sayaka declared, grinning. She rarely got to eat sweets at home; her mother was big on health foods and wouldn't even have pocky in their house. Hitomi couldn't remember how many times Sayaka had gotten candy bars out of vending machines and scarfed them down before she got home. She always felt guilty about it later since she didn't like to disobey her parents, but that didn't stop her from loving chocolate, and wasn't enough to make her stop.

There were four cans of Sprite to go around. The Sprite was warm from having been out of the refrigerator for so long; it had stung Hitomi's throat going down.

From his spot sitting next to her, Kyousuke had stared down at his soda can and sighed, remarking aloud that it was a pity they didn't have cups and some ice. Sayaka had elbowed him in the ribs when he said that, all in good fun, but also in warning. Madoka could be pretty sensitive about these things.

And yet, all Madoka had done was wave a hand and laugh. "Yes, it's a pity, but it tastes fine just the same. And there's just something about drinking warm soda on a day like this, isn't there? It just feels right, don't you think?"

There was. There was indeed.

Kyousuke tilted his head to catch Hitomi's eye and smiled ruefully. Even then, it was all she could do to keep from blushing.

-0-0-0-

There can be no remembrance of bliss without pain. This much, Hitomi knows.

It had once been the four of them, just like that: Miki Sayaka, Kamijou Kyousuke, Kaname Madoka, and Shizuki Hitomi, bringing up the rear, smiling gently at jokes and covering her mouth so no one would see her teeth when she laughed. The one who calmed Sayaka down when she got over-excited. The one who would study for tests with Madoka. The one who, along with the others, sat and listened to Kyousuke play his brand new violin, and tell him, with unsparing honesty, how it sounded.

They had all been great friends, once. In elementary school, they were inseparable, went everywhere together, walked home together.

Of course, it had to change eventually.

Kyousuke developed a passion for music early; his greatest love became the violin and he took class after class to perfect his skills. He gradually grew apart from all of them, more from Madoka than from Hitomi or Sayaka, still a friend, but no longer one of their best friends.

Hitomi took after school class upon after school class as well, for the piano, for the making of tea, for dance, though these were less about personal pleasure and more about obligation and duty. Those classes, they chipped away at her life from the start, until there was so little of it left in the time between school that all she could do was go from place to place, and finish her homework in the dark. She never goes to parties anymore, or sleepovers, or day trips to an amusement park or the beach. There's just not time.

Madoka and Sayaka, of course, are still inseparable, the greatest of friends. The problem, though, is that the "foursome" has shriveled down to a "twosome", and Hitomi's been absent from the group for so long that she's no longer privy to the intimate thoughts shared between the two. They tilt their heads together to whisper, and no longer include Hitomi in their giggling secrets.

Well that's what happens when you pile after school class on after school class, Hitomi concedes ruefully, running a hand through her hair as she stares down at the text book in her lap. Dance lessons have been cancelled today due to mild flooding in certain parts of the city. All she has to occupy her afternoon is studying for the math test tomorrow; for once, she'll actually have enough time to study properly. When you're never with your friends, eventually, you'll find that you aren't as close to them anymore.

Not to say Hitomi always regrets having signed up for those classes. Becoming a proper lady is Hitomi's greatest goal right now, becoming the sort of girl her parents would be proud of. Learning the traditional arts is the surefire way to learn the graces of a proper lady; learning to hold and maintain the attitude of one is something Hitomi works for even when she isn't learning how to make and serve tea, when her fingers aren't spilling over piano keys, when her feet don't glide over a dance floor.

But there's so little time for strong bonds of friendship in this sort of life, and when held fast in silence, hearing only rain, Hitomi can't deny the loneliness of the life she calls hers.

My parents have always had high hopes for me, put a lot of pressure on my shoulders. They always wanted me to be perfect in every way. I don't want to disappoint them; I want to do well too. I want to be like what they want me to be, the sort of girl whom no one would ever think was a "problem child."

And when I strive to please them, I lose track of everything else. I can't devote as much time to schoolwork, so my grades suffer. I can't spend as much time with Madoka-san and Sayaka-san, so I'm not really one of their closest friends anymore. And I… I can't even go visit Kamijou-kun in the hospital as I ought to. He's so lonely in there, and Sayaka-san goes to visit him practically every day after school. I can barely manage to get there three times a week, and he hardly gets any visitors aside from me and Sayaka-san and his parents.

Sayaka's laughter. Madoka's sweet, quiet giggles. Kyousuke's smile. All of this, these are the things Hitomi wishes she could have in her life as much as the endless routine of class after class after class. Just a little sunshine to brighten up the never-ending monotony of her life.

Sayaka doesn't laugh as much as she used to, not since Kyousuke got hit by that car. When she does, Hitomi is always walking three paces behind her, so she can't hear it as well as she could if she was walking shoulder to shoulder with her. And those laughs are always directed at Madoka, not her.

Madoka's giggles, too, are aimed at Sayaka, not Hitomi. Some joke Sayaka made, or a skillful imitation of a certain person. They look so happy exchanging those smiles, and it's as if Hitomi is just a stranger in those moments, because they're caught up in a world that has just enough room for the two of them, and not for the girl walking three paces behind.

Kyousuke hasn't smiled since the doctors told him that he'd probably never play the violin again. He tries to smile, and even manages a facsimile of one once in a while, but they're just shoddy imitations, utterly ghastly to look on by someone who knows that his smiles used to look on. Kyousuke's real smiles were gentle and benign and full of good cheer and just… just so beautiful, really. These forced grins, showing either too many teeth or too few, the forced contortions of his lips, it's just so hideous.

His black depression infects everything around him, and maybe it's just her fear of what he'll do if it gets any worse, maybe it's just the sorrow of seeing him, frustrated and helpless, being told he'll never be able to pursue a career as a musician or even play a simple measure again, that leaves her thinking like this, remembering the old days.

Hitomi would be a liar if she said she doesn't miss it. She misses the days when it was the four of them together and their lives were untroubled by anything resembling real suffering. She misses the days when she was part of the group. She misses the days when her feelings for Kyousuke didn't inspire butterflies to rip her stomach apart, didn't fill her with fear of hurting Sayaka. She misses the days when they were perfectly happy.

It's no use though, trying to go back to the past. Unless Hitomi's missed something (and she likes to think she hasn't), scientists, for all their advancements, have yet to discover time travel. It's not like she can go back and warn her younger self not to take all those classes, or maybe at least go a little easier on herself. It's not like she can go back and save Kyousuke from getting hit by that car, as much as she wishes she could. Maybe then he'd smile again, and she wouldn't have to bite her lip and turn away when he fixes that grotesque not-smile on his face, for fear of bursting into tears at the sight of it.

Thinking you can return to the past only ever hurts you, anyways. It hurts to the very bones, to the depths of your fraught soul.

Suddenly, a boom of thunder louder than the rest unleashes its mighty voice just above the roof, and Hitomi jumps, gasping slightly. The lights go dark, and unlike the other times, this time they don't come back on. Insanely, when she hears her father cursing downstairs (he had probably been on the computer or something), Hitomi giggles, a high-pitched, nervous giggle.

Well, I guess I'll have to hold off on studying until the power comes back on—or until Mother turns on the backup generator; whichever comes first. The rain's not really so gentle anymore, is it?

Hitomi pushes her book away and presses the side of her head against the cool, almost damp-feeling window. Her wide-open eyes sting, but there are no tears. Her mouth hangs open slightly, but there is no sound from it.

Remembering the past… It really does hurt. Not because it's painful itself; no, that would be too easy. Just because everything seems so insanely, unrealistically happy compared to now. The sunlight had been blindingly bright that day, the colors too vivid, like something out of a cartoon. It all seems like something out of a dream, nowadays. I wish… I just wish we could go back to that.

Still, Hitomi can't help but smile a little, a smile that's wistful or maybe just fond, as she recalls the way that day had ended.

They stayed up on the hill for a few hours, talking, laughing, debating the shapes of the clouds, until the sun began to sink in the sky, and Hitomi remembered something important.

"I… I'm sorry everyone." She had stood up, bowing apologetically, mouth pressed tight together between words. "I have to go home now."

Sayaka's eyes widened, surprised and just a little hurt; Hitomi's stomach stung at the sight. "What? Why?"

"My parents are having guests over for supper tonight. I have to go home soon so I can get ready in time." Those guests, as it happened, were her father's boss and his wife. Hitomi's father was looking for a promotion, and Hitomi knew that she had to both look her best and act her best in order to help with that.

They had all nodded at that, said that of course they understood, and that they were just sorry she couldn't stay longer.

Kyousuke had surprised them all when he'd stood up and said he would walk her home.

"Ah… Really, Kamijou-kun?"

"Sure," he had replied with a shrug, looking away, almost seeming embarrassed with himself. "It's no trouble."

They left Sayaka and Madoka on the hill—to this day, Hitomi doesn't know how long they stayed there after their compatriots left—and walked to Hitomi's sprawling house in silence. The soft fragrance of the azaleas and roses growing on the side of the road had made her just a touch lightheaded.

Hitomi and Kyousuke had neared the former's house as the shadows were growing long. Hitomi's mother stuck her head outside the house and cried "Where have you been? Get inside; we've barely got any time left to get ready."

"Thank you, Kamijou-kun. You really didn't have to."

"No, that's okay." He paused awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck and staring at a point just to the left of Hitomi's head. "I like walking with you."

That simple admission had been enough to keep Hitomi smiling throughout the length of her mother's scolding.

How she wishes the days could be like that again.