Flame Of Recca Fan Fiction ❯ In The Rain ❯ In The Rain ( One-Shot )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

By: meseta

In The Rain

Written by Nistha Shrestha

Disclaimer: Flame of Recca belongs to those that own it. And unfortunately, I'm not one of them. This story is written purely for pleasure, and I do not intend to use it to make profit.

WARNING: This story contains scenes that are not suitable for young children.

Important Note: Yes, Fuuko's eyes may be dark blue, but I wanted them to be green. That's because it ties in better.

And another thing. Every time there's a big divider there, it's a POV change. In some places it changes to simple narration without any POV.

"Bye guys! See you all tomorrow!" Fuuko waved goodbye to the rest of the gang - Yanagi, Recca, Domon - and started heading home at the end of a tiring day. Softly whistling a popular tune, she strode along the path jauntily while the wind teased her locks of violet hair, played with them, and tangled them still further than what they already were. Her dark green eyes twinkled like gems as she remembered a joke, her lips curved into a smile.

It got suddenly darker as clouds enveloped the sky, swallowing up the blueness, refusing to light any entry. She immediately looked up, and realized it was going to rain. Do I have my umbrella? Fuuko fumbled in her schoolbag, and was chagrined to discover that she didn't have an umbrella.

OK… now what do I do?

Sprinting gallantly, she tried to outrun the clouds, but they got closer and closer, and she got all the wearier. Ultimately, she found herself in the middle of a huge rainstorm, getting pelted mercilessly by stinging streaks of rainwater. She looked around desperately, and made out the outline of a familiar building. Its clean, simple lines beckoned her.

That's Mi-chan's house! Fuuko hurried towards it, hoping that 'freezeboy' Mikagami Tokiya (surname in front) would let her take shelter in his house. Tokiya claimed he was part of the Hokage gang only because Yanagi resembled his dead sister. But though he huffed and acted peevish when the Hokage came to him - "I'd rather be alone than be with a bunch of primates like you… I'm only staying because Yanagi asked me to." - he was getting used to, even affectionate, towards the rest of the Hokage gang.

Fuuko was Tokiya's exact opposite. He would always be aloof, and hid his emotions, while she would almost always have a grin on her face. He was a model student; she couldn't care less about her grades. She was tomboyish, with her short, cropped hair and frank, unguarded expression. He looked almost effeminate with his long, well-kept hair, which was always tied back in a high ponytail, and his sharp features. He'd claim that Fuuko was a monkey, she called him names like 'icicle-man', 'Fridge-boy', and insisted on calling him Mi-chan, and never calling him Mikagami like everyone else did. With mock fury they would both claim they hated each other.

I'll be there only a while… until the storm ends. Fuuko mused over the situation. He won't refuse in a situation like this, would he? Please God, let Mi-chan have at least enough heart to let me stay! In no time, she was at the front door. She rung the doorbell tentatively, and a gruff voice answered.

"Who is it?"

"It's me, Fuuko! Open the door!" she shivered at a sudden gust of wind, "It's raining cats and dogs out here."

"Humph!"

The door swung open, revealing a clearly irritated Tokiya. His long silvery hair was untied, and cascaded down his shoulders. His cold blue eyes were glaring at her, the intruder.

"Umm… may I come in?"

A pause. Fuuko looked expectantly at Tokiya, who looked back with a stern glint in his eyes.

"Why are you here?"

Fuuko was miffed. How rude! A sharp retort sprang to her lips, and then she suddenly remembered that she wasn't in the position to argue with Tokiya. She sighed. "It's raining, I don't have an umbrella, and my house is too far away."

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His eyes flickered over her drenched body. Her clothes stuck to her like a second skin and barely hid her shivering body. He couldn't ignore the strange twinge in his heart when he saw how miserable she looked. She looked so lost and forlorn, like an abandoned kitten that he yearned to take her in, and love and care for her … but his life was supposed to be a sad, lonely one. His was a life devoted to avenging a murder, and there was no room for love. He couldn't afford to let her in; she would drive him crazy.

"Wait a moment then." Tokiya went inside, and returned, holding an old black umbrella in his hands. "Here, use this."

She stared at the umbrella in disbelief. He expected her to brave the downpour with that flimsy thing? That stone-hearted B------! She'd convinced herself that Tokiya had started to care, and now this. It didn't help that the rain had already put her in a bad mood. Eyes blazing, she threw him a look of pure hatred. "Thanks for your concern," she spat out. Opened umbrella clenched tightly, she turned on her heel and started walking away.

Mikagami stood there, looking at Fuuko's retreating figure. He watched as the rain pelted her from all directions. He watched as the gale fought with her to gain possession of the fragile umbrella, and won. He watched as she cursed loudly, and he watched her eyes as they locked with his when she threw him a disdainful glance.

He watched the water stream over her flawless skin, through locks of violet hair, over her full, pink lips, her slender neck, collect at the little hollow on her throat, and run down like a broken string of transparent, glittery beads into hidden recesses. 'His view of her became bigger and bigger; his feet seemed to have a life of their own, closing the gap between him and the one who dazzled him He was standing in front of her now, looking down at her, not with his usual icy gaze, but with a hunger; a craving for something that has seemed to be missing for a long while.

"Fuuko." It was a whisper, a hoarse remnant of his voice. It was all he could muster. He took her cold hands in his, and leaned forward, tensely.

What is he doing? Her heart was racing uncontrollably. His eyes held her, imprisoned her. The hypnotic gaze had her rooted to the spot. As he leaned forward, she closed her eyes; her eyelashes lay moist and dewy upon her cheeks. She licked her lips, waiting….

What am I doing?

Tokiya too, closed his eyes, and leaned forward even more. But his lips met paltry air, and water merely whet the heat in them. He opened his eyes, only to see Fuuko turning away from him.

"Mi-chan… Tokiya…. This, this isn't… right…."

His eyes grew wide.

She…refuses me….

He had his pick of women; there were many that craved him. He was a mint-- such a powerful sweet-- a sweet that burned with coldness, yet so intensely flavoured. They all knew what awaited them - an icy, derisive gaze - but they hoped he'd melt ...for one of them. And when he finally did, when he had actually chosen, she had rejected him.

Did she care about him at all? Did she care that she'd melted his frozen interior? Did she? She probably hated him. Probably wanted to wrench her hands out of his and walk away.

But why was she still standing there?

But this is right…can't you feel it? A silent voice screamed in her head. Yes, she felt it. His hand felt warm, and comforting. As he drew closer, she felt the way their bodies molded together, like harmony and melody, side by side, together in perfect harmony. And she stood still there, as the lightning split the sky, as the thunder drowned out the screech of the brakes of the car fast approaching. The darkness shrouded the face of the drunk driver as he struggled to control his car and his body.

And the lightning brightened the sky, and illuminated the streets. It illuminated the blood mixing with the rain, and illuminated the thrown bodies of the two teenagers clutching each other tightly. It illuminated the shards of glass that flew everywhere, like rain, yet far more deadly. And it illuminated the car nearby, smashed into a tree.

Tokiya's heart was racing as he composed himself. He had thrown himself and Fuuko out of the way at the last second, and missed being hit by an inch. But why was Fuuko looking so shocked? Why did she have blood on her fingers as she knelt over him? Why did the world seem so hazy? Why did his throat feel like it had been ripped apart? Why did she pull out a shard of glass from there, stained crimson?

And why did the rain dripping from her wet face, the drops that fell on his lips, why did they feel so salty?

~Owari~

Author's Notes/Babblings: So there goes my first attempt at writing a FoR fic.

Many thanks to G-Cleft, who was my beta-reader, and who so wonderfully pointed out the flaws and 'unflaws' in this fic. Edited properly, with no dangling modifiers (I didn't have one! I had a tense mistake there and it seemed like one. )

And my lovely lovely fellow fanfic readers now have to suffer mine! BWAHAHAHA! *Ahem*

This also happens to be the first angst I've done…and it was pretty hard handling those delicate emotions that plague adolescents.

C&C greatly appreciated.