While I’ve never been alone, grey-clouded days have been playing on repeat.
Each day, I’d wake up on the couch, look outside to see another stormy sky, then leave for school, feed the cats, clean—and repeat.

One day, while I was feeding a small white kitten, a light pink-haired boy appeared in front of me. He stared curiously at what I was doing and looked at me with eyes that said: if you let me speak, I’ll never shut up. But alas, one can only hear the sound of rain for so long without growing bored of it. I stared at him and sighed. That was invitation enough.

Without waiting for a response, he immediately started talking about the kitten.
“You know this kitten’s mama was run over not too long ago,” he said, eyes still focused on the cat.

“…”
I didn’t know how to reply, so I stayed silent, hoping that if I didn’t answer, he’d stop talking.
But like the rain, he never did.

Soon, I started seeing him there every day. He’d play with the cats, a small sunny smile always across his face. Usually, he’d sit there talking nonstop until he ran out of things to say, then leave. But one day, he didn’t. This time, he asked me to follow him to the park, where a small garden bed had just been dug.

The bed was empty—just dirt and damp soil.
He told me he’d planted tomatoes, peppers, and cucumbers, and that soon they’d grow.
He said we could eat them together under a nice summer’s glow.

Then I had an idea.
Maybe if I shared something personal—a secret garden—I could get him to smile more.
But not long after I showed him the garden, he fell down a flight of stairs and hit his head.
And just like that… he was gone.

Now, the places where we met feel like ghosts of happy memories.
The cats he used to feed look at me with quiet pleading in their eyes. They meow like they’re asking where he went. Then they go quiet—like they already know.
And no matter where I go, without him, it all feels hollow.

I used to think I could fix his sadness. That if I smiled enough, he might feel less alone.
But now the rain has come for me too. I understand. It’s like every day is raining, and every word drowns in the sound.
No matter how deep I breathe, it feels like I’m about to cry.

Like him, I was stuck in the rain.
But at the end of every storm, there’s a rainbow.
So in this new beginning, I’ll change how I look and what I say.

My hair’s yellow now.
I’ve started working at a quiet little shop with someone who reminds me of him.
I don’t know what the future holds,
but after every cloud, I’ll keep waiting—
for the clear day to come.