Into The Rain With You

After lunch, I couldn't focus on anything. My mind kept circling back to the same dark place—the place where I kept all my memories of my mom's departure, my dad's apathy, my own guilt for never being enough.

That evening, when I walked home alone, the feeling grew heavier. It was as if the weight of my past was pressing down on me, suffocating me.

I stood outside my house for a while, staring at the front door like it was a reminder of everything I had lost. Every time I thought about walking inside, about facing the emptiness of my dad's silent house, I wanted to turn around and walk away.

But I couldn't run from it anymore. I had spent too many years running from the things that hurt. And that had only made it worse.

I opened the door and stepped inside, my shoes making muffled sounds against the hardwood floor. The house was quiet, too quiet. It always was, ever since my mom left.

I walked to my room, my footsteps echoing in the stillness.

As I lay in bed that night, I felt the familiar rush of guilt wash over me. The guilt of not being good enough. Of not being able to fix things. Of never being able to stop my mom from leaving.

And the worst part? I didn't even know how to forgive myself for it.

It wasn't until the weekend that I finally gave in and reached out.

I had spent all of Saturday sitting in my room, doing nothing. My thoughts kept dragging me back to that place—the place where everything had fallen apart. But by Sunday afternoon, I couldn't keep it inside anymore.

I texted Haruka.

Can we talk?

She replied almost instantly. Of course. Where?

Anywhere. Just need to get out.

Within an hour, we were sitting at a small cafe downtown, the soft hum of background noise filling the space between us. I had no idea how I was going to explain everything. How I was going to tell her about my mom, about the way I had locked myself away from everyone.

But as Haruka sat there, looking at me with quiet patience, I realized something. I wasn't doing this for her. I wasn't doing it for anyone else.

I was doing it for myself.

I needed to let go. I needed to stop carrying this pain alone. I needed to stop running from the past.

"I don't know where to start," I said, my voice rough.

Haruka reached across the table and placed a hand on mine. "Start wherever you need to, Kai. I'm listening."

And for the first time in a long time, I felt like I was finally ready to say it. To let the words spill out, no matter how messy they were.

"My parents got divorced," I started, and the words sounded strange, even in my own mouth.

Haruka didn't interrupt. She just listened. And that was all I needed.

"I never understood why," I continued. "She meant a lot to me despite acting as the perfect son. And when she left… I don't know. I think part of me just shut down. Like if I could stop feeling it, maybe it wouldn't hurt so much."

The silence that followed was heavy, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Haruka didn't say anything right away. She just squeezed my hand gently.

"You don't have to carry that alone," she said quietly. "It's not your fault, Kai. And it's okay to hurt. You don't have to pretend you're fine all the time."

I felt something inside me crack open. Maybe it was the way she looked at me, or maybe it was the fact that I finally said the words I had been holding inside for so long.

But whatever it was, I felt lighter. Even if just for a moment.

And for the first time in a long time, I could try to heal..