Eiji looked down at Ichigo. She was tired from another long day of school. He was tired too, of course, but not nearly as much as she was.
He leaned the umbrella a little closer to her, just to be sure that a stray drop of rain didn’t find its way into their little bubble. Eiji peered, twisting his head, down both sides of the street, searching for the bus. It was say late today and they couldn’t even sit down because the benches were soaked.
“Ichigo, are you alright, Nya~?” he asked, prodding her side with his bony finger. Her head, previously resting on the taller boy’s shoulder, lifted up and she yawned.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry.” Her eyes were drooping considerably, Eiji almost worried. Almost. Despite her current appearance, there was always a reserve of backup energy hidden somewhere in Ichigo’s body. He just had to activate it. Maybe a visit from the tick monster?
Suddenly Ichigo peeled away from Eiji’s side and stepped off the curb into the rainy, and surprisingly idle, street. “Hey!” he chirped, watching her hair instantly flatten upon contact with the rain, “What are you doing, Ichigo? You’ll get sick again!” The memory of the last time it rained, when Eiji had the bright idea to dance in the rain, had him worried to death right about now. Poor Ichigo had been bedridden for a week because of the last fiasco.
“Its one of those days.” she said tiredly. Feebleness tinged in her voice.
“One of what days?” he asked curiously.
Ichigo smiled back at him, water running down her features, her eyes brightening slightly with the sad statement that followed, “Some say that, when it rains, its because angels are crying up in heaven. The angels must be sad today.”
Eiji’s question meter peaked. “Why would angels be sad? Isn’t heaven supposed to be perfect? Well, maybe if an angel is sad its because it doesn’t have its wings? Or are they sad for other people down here on Earth?”
“I don’t know Eiji. I don’t know.” Ichigo stuck her tongue out and craned her neck upwards, not even bothering to close her eyes. The gray sky poured down drops on her and she watched, like looking into a dark, endless, depressing showerhead. Eiji’s eyes flickered upwards for a moment before he put the umbrella down and mimicked Ichigo’s movements.
“They’re not salty, like normal tears.”
Ichigo giggled like she’d just breathed in pure Helium, her bright teeth glowing in the dark afternoon, “Then maybe they’re happy tears!” Eiji’s world brightened just then
