NARRATOR: "The first day of summer vacation is a disappointment. I woke up. Water came down from the leaden sky in Biblical proportions. I was optimistic at the time. A quick summer shower, I thought. Torrents of rain for a few minutes, then it's gone. No such luck. Rainwater is relentlessly pouring down from the blue-gray sky outside, streaming down the glass of my window in small brooks and rivers and gathering together to form miniature ponds on the walkways. Just like it has done for the past two and a half hours. So I've been half-assedly cleaning up in between half-assedly reading a book, packing my stuff on the side when I get bored of the first two. The weather drags my spirits pretty down too, making it harder to do anything properly."
NARRATOR: "Something bumping quite loudly against my door rouses me from my apathy. I hope it's not Kenji and his crazy indoors bowling alley. ... I hear no more sounds from the corridor until I walk to the door and open it. Rin. I wish seeing her would evoke some more emotion in me, but for one, I'm too surprised that she came to see me and for two, she is soaking wet. Her uniform shirt is drenched and she is standing in a self-created puddle. Droplets of rainwater are dripping from her short bangs and sliding down her nose until they fall down from the tip. One. By. One."
HISAO: "Umm... hi. How are you feeling?"
RIN: "Medium normal."
NARRATOR: "The relative questionability of her statement aside, she sure doesn't look too good."
HISAO: "You're all wet."
RIN: "It's because I come from the outside. Do you know it?"
HISAO: "Why'd you be outside? It's raining buckets out there, if you haven't noticed."
RIN: "I haven't. It's raining pretty hard though. I was on a walk."
HISAO: "Is this what you call “wallowing in self-pity?”"
RIN: "Do you think I'm pitiful?"
HISAO: "No, I implied that you think you are."
RIN: "I'm not, and rain is not a sad thing. Don't you ever walk in the rain?"
HISAO: "I do, but only with proper equipment, like an umbrella."
RIN: "You just need to imagine you have a blue umbrella with white stripes."
HISAO: "It might be tough when rain is falling on my head."
RIN: "Just imagine harder."
NARRATOR: "... Yeah, she definitely is back to normal. Those half-sarcastic, inconsiderate remarks that really push my buttons even though she doesn't mean it, that vacant, spaced-out stare that always expects more than it gives. It's so... very much like her."
RIN: "I may need to come in. I need some help with this water and clothes I'm wearing."
NARRATOR: "My brain quickly solves this equation, and I stumble with my words, a stark display of contrast against Rin's easygoing self-invitation."
HISAO: "But, Emi..."
NARRATOR: "Rin shakes her head vehemently, causing water to sprinkle everywhere."
RIN: "She left. Besides she would just worry and fuss until she could not worry or fuss any more, which always takes a troublesomely long time. It's in fact longer than I want to hear her fussing, and I thought you probably are not the fussing kind."
NARRATOR: "She slumps down on my desk with a squishy sound. Her soaked clothes are making the desk and everything on it wet but she doesn't care. ..."
HISAO: "Okay. Fine. I'll help you out. I have a towel somewhere. Do you want dry clothes? Is a uniform fine? I'm taller than you, but..."
RIN: "Everything is fine."
NARRATOR: "With a little searching I find a fresh uniform and a fluffy towel from the depths of my closet. The towel in one hand and the uniform in the other, I turn to face Rin again, uncertain of the next step. There is something wrong with me, a normal guy would just—"
RIN: "Stop worrying. It is not a problem."
NARRATOR: "She probably could see right through my hesitant demeanor. As if I was completely transparent to her. I push my anxiety away and concentrate on the eight buttons lined on her shirt, just like mine has. Only the first button is an obstacle, and after getting it over I undo the others with slightly less shaking hands."
NARRTOR: "Throwing the soaked shirt aside, I reveal Rin's pale upper body, shrouded only in her light blue brassiere which instantly reminds me of her saying it's her favorite color. I try not to think too much about... stuff, but it's hard not to look at her body with what I can only think of as mixed feelings. I don't know what to think of this, so I just watch her."
NARRATOR: "Rin looks... brittle. She is like a shell, a fragile thing just barely holding together. Her ribs, each of them visible under her pale skin, are moving up and down in the rhythm of her breaths. Rin always struck me as quite thin, but I realize now that the manic creative period before the exhibition opening might've caused her to lose weight. Did she eat properly and enough? Definitely not and probably not. This ugly, yet beautiful bare minimum of a human body that belongs to someone I care about is a contradiction of aesthetics in itself, oddly becoming of her. My eyes follow her collarbone to her shoulder and down her arm until the abrupt end. No, it's less than the bare minimum, I think with a passing pang of sadness and some guilt for thinking like that."
NARRATOR: "Her arms, degenerated into almost nothing but bone and skin due to lack of use, look very short now that the long sleeves of her uniform are not covering them: My lack of any negative reaction makes me think that I've actually grown pretty accustomed of the various physical abnormalities of my schoolmates. I always wondered why Rin keeps her shirt sleeves long, only tying them in a simple knot at where the elbow would be. It seems a bit impractical, but then again she is not exactly the pinnacle of practicality. Maybe she likes it, maybe it is somehow important to her. Maybe there is no deeper meaning to it. I feel like asking, and almost do, but Rin's miserable state requires a higher priority of my attention."
NARRATOR: "She's stopped talking too, after we ran out of spiky greetings. I guess there is no need for chitchat then."
NARRATOR: "I pick up the towel from the bed and wrap it around her head, rumpling it all over her hair until most of the rainwater is hopefully soaked into the fabric."
NARRATOR: "She peeks from below the towel at me, looking up with impassive eyes. It looks like she wants to say something without saying it. It's that kind of a look. But I can't read what she is thinking about from her face, so I just keep on fussing with the towel around her shoulders and hair. The silence is oppressive, terrifying. Communication between us has suddenly been reduced to the movements of my hands and the towel, and Rin swaying her body to and fro. My jagged breathing and her quiet breaths, trying to find a common rhythm that just is not there. I think I can hear her heartbeats, or maybe they are just mine redoubled. As I brush a rogue strand of hair aside from her ear, Rin suddenly presses her cheek against the back of my hand. The contact is electric, a jolt of current surging through me."
NARRATOR: "Whether she seeks comfort, warmth or just my touch I wouldn't know, but I can't help touching her back, caressing her soft cheek with my hand. And with closed eyes, she kisses me, on the fingers, counting the joints with her lips... I am saddened beyond my expressive capability. Here we are, a boy and girl, both in love or something like that with each other, or maybe not... and yet..."
NARRATOR: "Something is broken, I can feel it in me and in Rin; in the way our gazes merely brush against each other, shying away from contact; in her closed, timid posture and in my way of touching her like a china doll, afraid of shattering her delicate form. In how we are closer than we have ever been, yet I'm not feeling happy. It's like yesterday. When did tenderness and forlornness become one and the same word, acts of affection start invoking only longing? ...How, why did we end up like this? “No, don't answer that,” I'd like to say to myself, but fighting against the omniscience of self-awareness is a lost cause. Still, I am here, and Rin is here, and it feels like she might be able to solve whatever problems she has. And if she can, why couldn't I? Why couldn't we? It feels like taking that step is too much, too difficult, too uncertain. So for now, all I can do is dry her up so she won't get a cold again."
NARRATOR: "I pet her head, trying to sort out the hair that refuses to be sorted out even when wet. A pair of dark, glazed eyes follows my every movement."
HISAO: "Pants too?"
NARRATOR: "She nods an answer, leans back and spreads her legs, with a grotesquely inviting gesture that makes a nasty feeling crawl up and down my spine like a bad premonition. It's not enough to sober me though, as the silence is starting to make me feel detached from myself. I move automatically, without thinking even though I should; I should talk to her about this, or at least about something. The silence is a spell, a pact that has bound us to this private world made of the dull sound of rainfall and the soft feel of her skin against my fingers. The button of her trousers is fastened tight, but it opens surprisingly easily. Slipping them off is hard, mostly because she is sitting on them, with no intention of standing up to ease my task. I kneel down uncomfortably and titillatingly between her legs so I can quickly dry her bare feet, remembering that they are as important to her as hands are to me. As I work the towel up from her ankles, Rin brushes her thigh against my cheek and nudges the small of my back with her heel to make me come closer. I look up to meet her silent stare that was waiting for me to look up. That unassuming, expectant stare seems to say that the ball is in my court. ... I fleetingly brush my hand against her inner thigh."
NARRATOR: "The touch makes her gasp sharply, as if she was trying to hold back breathing. What if I do this, then? The small kiss I place on her thigh is enough to make Rin lose her composure, to shut her eyes, to squeal almost inaudibly. ...Is that what you want too? Would it be all right now? To take this step? ...What if? Maybe if... Hazy thoughts float somewhere in the back of my unfocused mind. Somehow, this whole situation is making it hard to think, as if my head was full of cotton fluff. But that's all right. It seems thinking is not something we need right now."
|NARRATOR: "By the grace of vastly smaller amount of fabric, slipping off Rin's panties is considerably easier than her trousers. They disappear past my field of vision, sliding somewhere away down her legs. It seems I did a poor job with the towel, since Rin's legs are still wet from the rain. Well, whatever."
NARRATOR: "Guided by instinct more than rationality, I move closer and taste the different kind of wetness. She responds to me, to the slow movements of my tongue on her skin, to my kisses on her flesh. Her muscles tense and relax in the rhythm, as if what I am doing was uncomfortable. To hear Rin trying not to make a sound when I suck on her is... unreal. This whole morning has been so unreal, like the surreal intangibility of an awakening dream. I can't believe I am doing this, to her, now. But I am going with the flow. Besides, the point of no return was a thousand miles ago. I move around, try to do things to her, to find the places where her weakness lies, to tease her, to drive her mad with pleasure because I want to, I want to do this to her. But she doesn't squeal, she doesn't squirm, for maybe I can't make Rin any madder than she already is, whatever I do. Her ragged, heavy breathing mixed with unintelligible moans is that of a lunatic, but I do not cause it. I only release that from her."
NARRATOR: "She becomes more and more moist, and I drink from her, feeling a heat growing inside myself. I try to reach her deepest places, to feel all of her I can this way. My every action is met with a different reaction, but all of those are out of pure lust. Rin is lost in desire, willing to let anything happen to her if I do it right now. She becomes closer and closer to the moment of release, but the way to that is an uphill slope of madness. Still, she is going that way. The muscles don't relax any more between the waves of ecstatic spasms. Rin just becomes tenser and tenser, contracting so much that it must be physically painful, but I do not let go. I keep going, and I know she wants it too, she desperately wants me to do this to her. A leg curls around my shoulders and draws me closer, so close that I think that I'm going to choke. I keep going because it's the only possibility."
NARRATOR: "As I push the button that drives her into gasping for breath, locking her leg into a cramp against my back, losing her mind in the sensation, at that precise moment I seem to forget all that was meant to be, all that should be. All I know is that she came here and... I think there was a towel at some point, too. None of it matters, all that matters is this, what we have now. Her orgasm surges through me too, exciting me in a completely new way. It makes me feel anxious, nervous. Bothered. As her body relaxes, I try to kiss here down there again, but it startles her, causes her to jump."
RIN: "No... Hisao... Enough. Come here."
NARRATOR: "I stand up to remove the last piece of clothing Rin has. She leans against me to catch her breath, tickling me with warm air exhaled into my shirt. Blindly, I reach behind her back to feel my way below her shoulder blades, to find the contraption that fastens her bra. It opens more easily than I thought, falling to the floor somewhere. Her bare skin against me is a sensation so wonderful that I want to have more of it, and I do, embracing her. Rin's hair smells of rain, and I realize that I'm not hearing the sound of rainfall any more. It's a sobering thing. The cushion that enveloped us into a reality of our own is now gone, and I realize more clearly what is happening."
HISAO: "You know, this really is not what friends should be doing."
NARRATOR: "I whisper, once again noticing how such a simple matter as talking can be overbearingly difficult at times."
RIN: "Will you stop being my friend?"
NARRATOR: "That wasn't what I meant, but her serious tone and the layers of connotations behind Rin's question give me pause."
RIN: "I... think it might be all right. Even if you did."
NARRATOR: "I hug her and smile into her hair, understanding Rin perfectly for once."
RIN: "You are wet."
NARRATOR: "The remnants of water on her skin have drained into my shirt. Somehow, even her statements of the obvious make me glad right now."
HISAO: "You're right. I am. But that's your fault."
RIN: "I want to see you."
NARRATOR: "I comply, standing back to open the buttons of my shirt, much more quickly than when I undid Rin's buttons. A sudden sense of haste strikes me, spurring me to rush forward. Every second I'm not touching Rin is a second wasted, a chance lost. My belt buckle proves an obstacle despite my ability to open it in an eyeblink under normal circumstances. While I fumble with it, I don't notice Rin bringing her foot up between us until she starts tracing my chest with her toe. I look down to see what she's looking at..."
HISAO: "My heart..."
NARRATOR: "I reflexively flinch back, covering the scar tissue in the middle of my chest. The shallow mark that the surgery following my heart attack left on my body has healed already but... well, it's not a particularly pretty sight if not overly repulsive either. It's barely noticeable, but she does have an eye for detail. Is this why she said she wanted to see me? I had sorta forgotten about this because of all this mess with Rin, but now all the unpleasant things connected to my condition surface at once, rushing through my mind like a flash flood. And oh God all the stories about old guys getting heart attacks when having sex, what if..."
NARRATOR: "... Realizing that I might just have spoiled the mood, I stumble to explain myself."
HISAO: "Ah... sorry, it's just that..."
RIN: "Let me touch you."
NARRATOR: "Her eyes are sultry, inviting as she sits there bare naked without an inkling of shame. I never thought Rin could look like that. Yeah, I know this is not how it should go. Even though Rin is right here, even though there should be no more questions, no obstacles, not this maddening feeling that something is constantly wrong... The same feeling that clutched my heart yesterday makes its appearance. We are together. In a way that is difficult to define, it eludes description as stubbornly as it evades change. Would a relationship like this be all right? Could we ever change to become closer? Even though we would stay together for all of eternity, we might never find our mutual understanding. But there is no such thing as eternity. This may mean that we will not be together forever. If not our differences, then the flow of time will pull us apart with irresistible force."
NARRATOR: "Rin is a creature of the moment, of whim and of impulse. I am nothing of the sort. This is a fact that I can understand very clearly. If for no other reason, for this reason I should grasp this moment. Even if it's the only moment we will ever have, I should not let myself spoil it. Even if I can't escape myself. Rin can't either, I know it now. We both have things we can't let go, things we can't not think. Feelings we can't not feel. But she allows herself to want me without any restraint. Here and now."
HISAO: "I'm sorry, you know..."
RIN: "Hisao, you really have to stop worrying."
NARRATOR: "Rin interrupts me before I get further, which is good because I don't know what I could have said. Her voice, void of its usual spaciness, scolds me softly, without an edge."
RIN: "You really have to learn to let go."
NARRATOR: "She scans me calmly, almost calculatingly. I wonder what I look like through her eyes. Damn. They are so green it almost hurts. I always was so enchanted by her eyes, those mysterious, captivating eyes that always were too restless for their own good. But I was also always intimidated by them. Yeah. Rin is intimidating, on more than one level and especially right now. She is frighteningly lucid, the goosebumps on her skin giving away that she is cold, or scared too. Either way, I steel myself and step back to Rin, embracing her to feel her in my arms again and to banish my doubts. The sight of her gentle, loving eyes seems to melt those doubts away like the last snow of winter. She presses her head against my shoulder, seeking a place to rest herself in, leaning against me like I lean against her."
RIN: "Let go."
RIN: "You should forget about stuff like future and past, it's not like you can change those kinds of things."
NARRATOR: "I wanted to say something to her, but I have lost my voice so I just mumble something unintelligible at her."
RIN: "You should just be with me now."
NARRATOR: "Maybe she understood what I wanted to say even if I didn't."
RIN: "Come here."
HISAO: "I am here."
RIN: "Come closer."
NARRATOR: "My entire body is thinking only in positives now so I do, hugging her more tightly."
NARRATOR: "I press my lower body against hers. She tenses a little. Just a little."
NARRATOR: "Her final plead is more like a prayer. There is only one way to be any closer than this. I reach down between us and guide myself, sinking myself into her. Every muscle in Rin's body stiffens at the same time. She doesn't say anything, or wince, so I push deeper, eventually moving out. And again. And she moves with me. Our movements melt together into one continuous string of back and forth, in and out. All sensations become sharper, amplified tenfold. My brain gave up interpreting all this stimulation ages ago, and now I am left with no choice but to feel all of this with my entire body. It's like that for Rin too, I know it. I can see it. I can feel it."
NARRATOR: "She breathes sharply in and out, losing all composure and grace, breathes warmly against my shoulder. Between those fragile breaths, she sometimes kisses me tenderly, gently, as if she was unsure how to do it properly. But there is no hesitation. Desperately clinging to me, drawing me closer so that I can fill all of her, she moves against me, around me so that it's hard to say where I stop and she begins. We take it slowly, excruciatingly slowly, as if we had all the time in the world even though we have only this moment and nothing beyond that. That feeling is—"
NARRATOR: "I stop moving, slightly alarmed. Maybe it hurts, or..."
NARRATOR: "She looks at me in a way that I can't really begin to interpret."
RIN: "Is this it?"
RIN: "You said I don't have to be alone."
NARRATOR: "Her eyes are full of an innocent, fuzzyheaded confusion that makes me chuckle a little and pet the back of her head."
HISAO: "Yeah. This is what I meant. That you have someone you can come to when you get soaked in a rain. It means you are not alone. If there is such a person for you."
NARRATOR: "She answers with a kiss, reminding me that we have stopped moving for no real reason. So we start from the top, almost at the same time, each mirroring the rhythm of the other. I move faster, faster in and out of her, my sweat mixing with hers, glistening on our shared skin like diamonds and pearls. She moves faster, grinding herself against me in the throes of our desire. The intoxicating scent of her lust, the mind-blanking feeling that connects our bodies, the sense of all rational thought draining from my mind. All those burn my consciousness just like the compelling feeling in my body burns my instincts."
NARRATOR: "As those feelings grow, Rin makes no signs of stopping. he curls her feet behind my lower back, forcing me to drive myself inside her as deep as physically possible, each millimeter sending waves through my spine. My mind blacks out as the world erupts into a flash of bright white blindness."
Next Scene: Proof of Existence