Yurugi

Rain was given a separate, small room. But he didn't mind either. Having his own room was something, at least. At least he had a place where he could be alone when he wanted to. A place to think.

And… a new place to live also meant a new school. Great. Most likely, the other kids would start picking on Rain because of how unsmiling he was for his age. But honestly? He didn't really care.

On the first day, before going to the new school, the three kids sat at the table and glumly ate scrambled eggs for breakfast. All three were silent. The only sound in the room was the clinking of forks against the plates.

The stepfather had already left. The aunt too. So it was even quieter.

After breakfast, each of them washed their own plate. Saione, out of sheer cheek, decided not to wash hers — she just put it in front of Rain.

«How disgusting she is. And does she seriously think she can hurt me with this? Hilarious,» Rain thought to himself.

Mikuta, seeing what Saione had done, simply picked up her plate and washed it herself. She washed both hers and Saione's. Then she silently went to her room, taking Saione with her.

Rain washed his plate last. Then he also went to his room to check if his backpack was ready.

A couple of minutes later, the three of them left the house and headed to the new school. It wasn't far — about three kilometres away, a half‑hour walk. They'd make it in time. It was around 07:10. Classes started at 08:00. It was drizzling lightly outside, so the three of them pulled up their hoods. If there was a downpour in the evening, the aunt (Saione's mother) would still come to pick them up. So they didn't even see the point in taking umbrellas.

They arrived at the school. There were about twenty minutes left before lessons started. They were assigned to their classes. Rain was put in class 3‑2 (he had already turned nine while he was in a coma. But no one congratulated him — except for Mikuta). Mikuta was placed in class 5‑1, and Saione in class 7‑1.

Rain and Mikuta were on the same floor, since they were in elementary school. Saione studied one floor above. But maybe that was for the best.

Migayama School, class 3‑2. Rain walks in without hesitation, without the nerves that children his age (and people of any age, really) usually feel before meeting new people, studying with a new group, being in a new environment. He looks around a bit. Just ordinary kids.

There's a little group of children at the third desk — five boys and three girls, so eight of them altogether. Maybe they're discussing something. What does it matter, right? He has his own things to deal with.

He walks over to the last desk in the third row — the one that's empty — and decides to sit there alone, by the window. He lays out his textbooks for the next lesson. It's going to be maths. But suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he notices a boy coming towards him. Rain doesn't see anything special about him. Just an ordinary kid, like himself.

Rain doesn't say anything to the boy. He doesn't even turn to look at him, just keeps calmly getting ready for the lesson. A second later, the boy breaks the silence — well, aside from the background noise of other kids laughing and messing around.

«You're the new kid, right? Why are you so gloomy? Smile».

But Rain doesn't answer. He still doesn't turn, doesn't look straight at the boy, as if the boy isn't even there.

«Ugh, you're such a grump,» the boy goes on.

Rain freezes mid‑movement. Then he slowly turns to face the boy.

«A grump? I'm not a grump. What kind of silly conclusion is that…».

But before Rain can finish, the boy points at him and shouts louder, drawing the whole class's attention. The teacher hasn't come in yet.

«Yurugi's a grump, the new kid's a grump!».

Some of the other kids join in. But Rain… he isn't offended. He just sits there, staring straight ahead. All these silly childish insults — they're just background noise. Besides, they're not even saying anything really hurtful, right? «Grump» is just«grump». Why get upset over that? It's ridiculous.…

The bell rings. Everyone takes their seats, but some of them still keep glancing at Rain now and then. Some don't just look — they stare him down.

The teacher walks into the classroom and tells everyone to sit down. Rain is called on twice: once when his name is read out from the register, and again when he raises his hand. He answers both questions correctly, and the teacher gives him an approving nod.

That's how the day goes. Rain finishes his classes earlier than his sisters, so he just sits on a bench near the school. February snow lies in little piles beside the cleared paths. And now it's snowing, mixed with a light drizzle.

He sits quietly, his hood pulled up, head lowered, eyes half‑closed. He doesn't know what to do with himself.