The rain hadn't let up since early morning. Heavy drops smacked against the window like drumming fingers, streaking the glass with rivers. A gray light filled the apartment, soft but cold.
Ichika sat by the window, cheek pressed against her hand, sighing loudly.
"This sucks."
Renji, still in pajama pants and an oversized T-shirt, was slumped at the table with a steaming mug.
"It's just water."
"It's boring water."
"Then go run in it."
Ichika turned to him, unamused. "You're so lazy. What are you even drinking?"
"Tea. Because I'm mature."
"Mature people don't wear shirts with holes."
Renji glanced down. "It's vintage."
"It's sad."
By midday, cabin fever had kicked in.
"Let's clean," Ichika said, standing in the middle of the room with arms crossed.
Renji blinked. "You want to clean? Voluntarily?"
"I want to not die of boredom."
So they started.
They moved piles, folded laundry, and dug through the forgotten corners of the apartment. Ichika found an old shoebox buried under a drawer.
Inside were photos—faded and curled. Renji as a kid, maybe ten or eleven, grinning in a backyard. His mom. His dad. Two older siblings in school uniforms.
"Is this your family?"
"Yeah."
Ichika looked closer. "You looked... happy."
Renji gave a half-shrug. "Things were different back then."
"What happened?"
"Life."
Ichika didn't push, but she tucked the thought away.
Later, they attempted cooking.
"Let me handle the eggs," Ichika said, grabbing the pan with confidence.
"Just don't turn them into rubber."
"I watched a tutorial. I'm basically a chef."
Two eggs later, the kitchen smelled faintly of burnt regret.
Renji nudged her aside, laughing. "Move. Let me save breakfast."
"Don't be smug. You still can't fold laundry right."
They argued, bumped elbows, bickered over salt—and somehow ended up with a pretty decent meal.
Afternoon came with leftover curry and reruns of an old mecha anime. Ichika curled up on the couch, her head slowly inching closer until it landed lightly against Renji's shoulder.
He didn't move.
A few minutes passed.
The rain kept tapping at the windows, steady and quiet.
Night fell. The lights were low. Renji was cleaning up dishes when Ichika walked in with her new pajamas.
She stood there for a second, silent. before sitting on the couch and saying:
"uhh... the orphanage used to feel loud when it rained. Like... even the walls were about to fall."
Renji didn't say anything. He just kept rinsing.
"like It's not like that here... but I used to think silence was deppresing. But now it's kinda..."
She didn't finish.
Renji dried his hands.
"It's not so bad here," she said, softer this time.
He looked at her.
"You think so?..."
"... Yeah, i like here..."
They didn't say anything else. The rain kept falling, steady and calm. And in the quiet, something unspoken settled between them.
Not a family. Not yet.
But maybe something close...
To Be Continued…