Where The Rain Falls

Haruko woke up because his phone was vibrating under his pillow. He reached for it without opening his eyes. His fingers searched across the sheets until he found the phone, knocking it onto the floor in the process. The vibration stopped. For a few seconds, the room was quiet again. Then his alarm started ringing. Haruko opened one eye. “Seriously...” He leaned over the edge of the bed and picked up his phone. 7:00. School started at 8:30. He had plenty of time. He stared at the ceiling for another thirty seconds anyway.

Outside his window, the sky was gray. Not dark enough to be called stormy. Just the dull gray of a summer morning after rain. Haruko finally sat up. His hair was sticking up on one side. He ran a hand through it and made it worse. His room was small. A desk, a bed, a bookshelf, and a narrow closet. His school uniform hung from the back of the chair because he had been too lazy to put it away properly the night before. His camera sat on the desk. Haruko looked at it for a moment before getting out of bed.

In the kitchen, the apartment was quiet. His mother had already left for work. There was a note beside the rice cooker. Breakfast is in the fridge. Don’t forget your umbrella. Haruko opened the fridge. There was a small container of leftover rice, some grilled salmon, and miso soup. He stood there thinking about whether he was hungry. He decided he was. While the rice warmed, he poured himself some water and looked through the kitchen window. The glass was covered in tiny droplets. It must have rained during the night. Haruko watched one drop slowly make its way down the glass. It moved around another drop, joined a third, and became heavier. Then it disappeared behind the edge of the window frame. He wondered where it would go. Probably no where important.

He finished breakfast, washed the bowl, and went back to his room. His camera was still on the desk. He picked it up. The battery was almost empty. “Great.” He plugged it in while changing. By 7:35, he was finally ready. He checked his bag twice. Wallet, phone, notebook, pencil case, camera, umbrella. He almost forgot his homework. He went back inside, found it beneath a book, and then left again.

The hallway outside his apartment smelled faintly of wet concrete. Haruko took the stairs instead of the elevator. On the first floor, an old woman from another apartment was struggling with a bag of bottles. “Good morning.” Haruko held the door open for her. “Thank you.” He nodded and continued toward the station. The rain had stopped, but the streets were still wet. Cars passed over shallow puddles. A delivery truck was parked outside a convenience store, and two employees were carrying boxes inside. Haruko walked past without stopping. Then he stopped. He looked back. The convenience store’s glass doors reflected the street. The wet pavement made the reflection look deeper than it really was. He took his camera out. Click. He checked the picture. It wasn’t particularly good. He kept it anyway.

At the station, the morning crowd was already thick. Haruko stood on the platform between two salarymen and a group of middle-school students who were arguing about something. He didn’t listen. He looked at the tracks. A few drops of water still clung to the metal. The train arrived with a rush of wind. Haruko stepped inside. There was no empty seat. He held the overhead strap and looked out through the window. Tokyo passed by in pieces. Apartment buildings, utility poles, narrow streets, vending machines. Then another train appeared on the opposite track and disappeared almost immediately.

Haruko liked trains. Not enough to call himself a train enthusiast. He just liked the way they made the city feel connected. You could sit inside one for twenty minutes and watch dozens of lives pass outside without ever knowing anything about them. Sometimes he wondered what it would be like to get off at a random station and spend the whole day there. He had never done it. Maybe someday.

At school, the corridors were already noisy. Someone was running even though running was prohibited. Someone else was complaining about a test. Haruko reached his classroom just before the bell. “Morning.” He looked up. Takeda dropped into the seat beside him. “You finished the English homework?” “Yes.” “Can I see?” “No.” “Come on.” “You’ll copy it.” “I’ll look at it.” “That’s what copying is.” Takeda sighed dramatically. “You’re cold.” “I’m protecting your education.” “You’re definitely cold.” Haruko smiled. Takeda noticed. “There. You can smile.” “I smiled yesterday.” “When?” “I don’t remember.” “Exactly.” The bell rang before Haruko could answer.

Their teacher entered. The class settled down. For the next few periods, Haruko did what he usually did. He listened when he needed to. He wrote things down. He stared out the window. At one point, sunlight appeared between the clouds. It lasted for few minutes. Then the sky turned gray again. Haruko watched the clouds. He liked weather, not forecasts or weather reports particularly. He liked the way weather changed a familiar place. The same street looked different under sunlight, rain, fog, or snow. Even people changed. They walked faster when it rained. They looked up when thunder sounded. They gathered beneath the roof of small shops. They complained. They laughed. They shared umbrellas. Rain made people behave differently. Haruko found that interesting.

At lunch, he ate with Takeda and two other boys from the class. They talked about a video game that Haruko hadn’t played. He mostly listened. “You should play it,” Takeda said. “I don’t have time.” “You spend your weekends taking pictures of puddles.” “They aren’t just puddles.” Everyone laughed. Haruko didn’t bother defending himself. He finished his lunch and checked his camera. The battery was full now. He took a picture through the classroom window. The school yard was still wet. A few students were walking across it. Their shoes left dark marks on the concrete. Click.

“Again?” Haruko turned. Mia was standing near the back of the classroom. She had been listening. “Again.” “What are you taking pictures of?” “The school yard.” She looked outside. “It doesn’t look very interesting.” “It doesn’t have to.” She smiled. “That’s a strange answer.” Then someone called her name from the hallway. She turned and left. Haruko watched her go for a second before looking back at his camera. He didn’t think much about the conversation.

The final class of the day was homeroom. Their teacher stood at the front of the room with several sheets of paper. “Before you leave, I have something for you.” That sentence immediately made everyone suspicious. “It’s not a test.” The room relaxed. “It’s your semester project.” A few students groaned. The teacher ignored them. “You’ll work in groups of two or three. Choose something connected to everyday life and document it over the next several weeks.” He wrote a few examples on the board. Local shops, Transportation, Food, Seasonal changes, Neighborhoods. “You can use photographs, interviews, written observations, or whatever else is appropriate. I’ll explain the final presentation later.”

The classroom immediately became noisy. Students turned around in their chairs. “You’re with me, right?” “Obviously.” “Let’s do convenience stores.” “Why?” “Because we can eat while we research.” “That’s not research.” Haruko stayed in his seat. He looked at the board. Everyday life. He thought about it. Rain was part of everyday life. At least, it was for him. He raised his hand. The teacher looked over. “What is it, Haruko?” “Can I do something about rain?” There was a short silence. Someone near the window laughed.

“Rain?” Haruko ignored him. The teacher considered it. “Sure. But you’ll need something more specific than just taking pictures of it.” “I know.” “What are you thinking?” Haruko didn’t have a complete answer. He looked outside. The clouds were getting darker. “Maybe how rain changes a place.” The teacher nodded. “That’s workable.” He wrote something on his paper. “You’ll need a group.”

Haruko looked around the room. Most people had already found partners. He didn’t know who to ask. He wasn’t particularly close to anyone. He considered asking Takeda, but Takeda was already working with someone else. Haruko looked back at his notebook. Maybe he could do it alone. He didn’t mind. He actually preferred working alone.

The bell rang. Chairs moved. Students began packing their bags. Haruko put his notebook away. Outside, rain began falling again. Not heavily. Just a thin summer rain. Students gathered near the entrance, checking their phones and opening umbrellas. Haruko stood beneath the roof and watched the rain. He took his camera out. He framed the school gate. The road beyond it was slowly becoming darker. Click. He checked the photograph. A little blurry. He liked it. He put the camera away. “Haruko!” He turned. Mia was running toward him. She stopped in front of him, holding her bag against her chest. “Wait.” Haruko waited. She caught her breath. “I heard you’re doing the rain project.” “Yeah.” “Can I join?” Haruko looked at her. “Why?” She blinked. “Because I want to.” “That’s it?” “Is there supposed to be another reason?” “I don’t know.” She laughed. “I think it’ll be fun.”

Haruko glanced toward the rain, then back at her. “Okay.” “Really?” “Sure.” Mia smiled. It wasn’t a particularly remarkable smile. Just a normal smile from a girl standing at the end of a school day. But something about it made Haruko pause. For the briefest moment, he felt as though he had seen that smile somewhere before. Not at school, not recently. Somewhere long ago. The feeling disappeared before he could catch it.

Mia tilted her head. “So we’re partners?” “Looks like it.” “Good.” She smiled again. Haruko opened his umbrella. Mia stepped underneath it. Together, they walked through the rain.

Neither of them knew what the project would become. For now, it was only a school assignment. A camera, a notebook, and a subject Haruko had always found interesting. “Rain”.