メロウレイン / Futtara Doshaburi Mellow Rain

Eyes of Rain

 

“The rainy season begins today, doesn’t it?”

 

The remark came up during a little casual conversation at a business meeting. It was certainly the sort of day when layers of grey clouds stretched across the sky in overlapping, wave-like gradations. The sky seemed unusually low.

 

“Ah, yes. It certainly looks as though it’s going to rain.”

 

“Do you like the rain?”

 

Kazuaki had merely intended to make a polite remark, so he was puzzled when the other person asked the question with such apparent curiosity.

 

“No, not particularly. I simply regard rain as something that can occasionally inconvenience me, depending on my plans.”

 

“Oh, I’m sorry. You just looked a little happy when you mentioned it. I must have imagined it.”

 

Kazuaki wanted to ask exactly what had given the impression that he was happy.

But the conversation had already returned to the subject of their meeting, and he never had the opportunity.

 

He had lied. He hadn’t liked the rain. Or rather, the memories associated with rain had always been painful. And when he considered that removing those memories would mean removing part of what had made him the person he was today, the feeling became even more complicated.

 

Just before reaching his apartment building, he felt a solitary raindrop strike his shoulder.

 

He remembered hearing someone argue that Japan actually had five seasons rather than four, because the rainy season ought to be counted separately.

 

Another long season of rain was beginning. And yet Kazuaki no longer felt depressed.

It was because Hiiragi was beside him. 

 

That was certainly true, but… Before he could work out the rest of that thought, he arrived home. He had run out of time.

 

He inserted his key and opened the front door. Hiiragi was waiting to welcome him in the entrance hall.

 

“Welcome home. Did you manage to avoid the rain?”

 

“I’m home. Just about. It only started raining now.”

 

“That’s good.”

 

Hiiragi smiled with relief. His eyes looked particularly beautiful beneath the soft orange light. Kazuaki found himself leaning closer to look into them.

 

“What?”

 

Hiiragi looked startled.

 

“Have I got something on my face?”

 

“No. I just wanted to see your eyes up close. Although, naturally, when I get too close, my own reflection gets in the way. It’s rather frustrating.”

 

It wasn’t a lie. But Hiiragi looked so embarrassed that Kazuaki almost wondered whether it would have been kinder to pretend there really had been something on his face.

 

Hiiragi’s eyes constantly changed in brightness and intensity of colour. When the two of them sank together into the deepest parts of the night, those eyes ought, naturally, to have become darker.

 

And yet Kazuaki could always distinguish the vivid green floating within them. He could even see the way the colour seemed to tremble, like the branches of a tree moving in the wind.

 

“Ah…”

 

Strangely, at moments like those, Kazuaki’s own troublesome shadow was nowhere to be seen.

 

Where have I gone?

 

But he wasn’t afraid.

 

Because he knew he was connected. 

 

Connected to Hiiragi.

 

Through an intimacy that moved constantly between a happiness that seemed as though it might last forever and a sadness that felt as though there might be no tomorrow.

 

“Kazuaki-san…”

 

Hiiragi’s eyes gradually filled with moisture. A transparent film gathered over their green surfaces.

 

Like raindrops falling upon leaves, gently moistening every part of them.

 

Ah. I see.

 

Kazuaki suddenly understood.

 

At some point, the very image of rain had become intertwined with Hiiragi in his mind.

 

That was why the person at the meeting had thought he looked a little happy.

 

Without erasing the memories he could never forget, Hiiragi had changed what rain meant to him.

 

Rain was something that made greenery more vivid. Something that beautifully moistened Hiiragi’s eyes.

 

In spring, summer, autumn and winter, there was a landscape of rain right here that belonged to Kazuaki alone.

 

“…Thank you.”

 

“Eh? What for?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“Now I’m curious…”

 

“Really, it’s nothing.”

 

Kazuaki lied.

 

If he told Hiiragi, he would only make him embarrassed again. And he didn’t want Hiiragi to start squeezing his eyes tightly shut whenever they were together.

 

Because then he wouldn’t be able to see them.

 

Those eyes filled with rain. The eyes belonged to Kazuaki alone.