I like the rain.
First of all, the sound is nice. That clapping, pouring sound is wonderful.
I like the rain because when I listen to it, it makes me feel like I'm all alone.
I like the rain.
What I like about it is how the sky turns gloomy. That grayish color, which can't be painted with just one shade, is beautiful.
I like the rain because when I look at it, it feels like there's something filthier than my own heart.
There are other things I like besides the rain.
The library after school. The smell of a brand-new book. The feel of a fresh mechanical pencil lead on paper.
In my world, that's all I need.
So, on rainy days after school, I'm always alone, reading in the library.
That's my luxury.
However, I know it won't last forever.
"Mashima, can you put these books away?"
"...Um, Sensei."
"What?"
I closed the book I was in the middle of reading as I stared at the books plopped down on my desk.
Then, I looked at my homeroom teacher.
She's a woman in her late thirties, single.
Her perfume stings my nose.
I hate that smell.
Her flashy makeup, like a threatening animal, catches my eye.
I hate that color.
But I'm not the only one who dislikes her.
She also dislikes me.
She can't stand that I don't fit in at school or in the class. I know she's trying to drive me out, like some wild animal trying to expel something foreign from its territory.
Still, I like to think we both have enough sense not to say it out loud.
"Sensei, I have something urgent to do today."
"It's fine, isn't it? You're on the library committee, after all. And your 'urgent' thing is just reading a book, right?"
After saying that, she messily dumped more books on my desk and returned to the teachers' room.
What a joke, I thought.
I know. I know she turns a blind eye when the noisy boys in the class, acting like monkeys at a zoo, sneak their phones into school even though it's against the rules. I know she ignores the girls who shamelessly upload TikTok videos of themselves dancing and sneak in snacks, also against the rules.
Yet she's strict with me.
I guess she thinks I'm an easy target.
I could have ignored the books she dumped on my desk and left, but I couldn't stand the idea of letting someone I hate dirty the place I love, so I reluctantly put them away. It took much longer than I expected.
I checked the clock. 5:30 p.m.
"...It's already half an hour past."
I usually leave by 5 p.m., but today, finding the right place to put the books away took extra time.
I need to leave soon.
If I don't, he'll come.
I grabbed my bag and left the library, only to find him standing there—the worst possible outcome.
Dressed in black. Eyes like a frog's—huge and bulging.
His fingers, also like a frog's, yet he stood on two legs and was about 190 cm tall—a creepy man.
Even though he's clearly dangerous, no one else can see him.
So I pretend I can't either.
"M-Mashima-chaaaan... I-I-I saw it... I saw that woman throw the books at you...! That's unforgivable, right...? It's wrong for someone like you to be looked down on by an old hag like her, don't you think...?"
He whispered in my ear. I ignored it.
Quietly, I locked the door. Then I turned around.
Pretending not to see the frog-man, I walked past him.
"L-Let's kill her. Let's kill that woman. If we do, will you be happy, Mashima-chan? Don't you think so too?"
It was about a month ago that this man first appeared in front of me.
I didn't do anything.
We just made eye contact.
Just eye contact, and now this.
"Ah...!"
Running in loafers is hard enough.
The rain made the road slippery. And then, a manhole.
I slipped and fell.
I tried to catch myself, but my hand couldn't stop the impact, and I rolled over once. I could feel my uniform getting dirty. I knew people were staring at me weirdly.
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The rain poured down in large droplets.
"...I hate this."
The sound of the frog-man's footsteps. The slug-man's slithering noise.
They were getting closer. I knew I couldn't escape anymore.
Tears mixed with the rain.
"Excuse me..."
I heard a voice.
It was a little kid.
A little kid with a yellow umbrella and a black schoolbag.
"...Are you okay?"
His face was young. Probably a first or second grader.
No one else had spoken to me, yet this little boy did, and the tears flowed more freely.
"Yeah. I'm fine. I just fell a bit."
"Oh... um, I didn't mean that."
The boy tilted his head in confusion.
His gaze was directed at the two men.
"M-Mashima-chan! You can't! You're going to have a baby soon, you have to take care of your body—"
The frog-man's voice cut off.
No, it wasn't just his voice that cut off—his entire neck was gone.
As if someone had cut it cleanly in a perfect circle, his head was just gone.
The slug-man's eyes bulged.
The next moment, the slug-man's body split cleanly in two, right down the middle.
Both of them, the frog-man and the slug-man, dissolved into a black mist and disappeared together.
They were dead. Just like that, the frog-man and the slug-man were gone.
I didn't know why, but I understood they were truly gone.
"That should be all of them," the little boy muttered quietly.
"Are your legs okay, miss?"
"Huh? Oh, y-yeah... I'm fine, but..."
I looked down at my legs, only to realize that the injury was gone.
...Just a minute ago, I had been bleeding, hadn't I?
Confused, I looked at the boy, and he extended his hand to help me stand up.
"Th-thank you... Um, about what just happened..."
"What just happened?"
The boy tilted his head innocently.
I thought he had seen the frog-man, but maybe it was just my imagination.
"Be careful not to slip again, okay?"
"Y-yeah. Uh, wait a second!"
I called out to the little boy as he turned to leave.
"What's your name?"
"My name? It's Itsuki," he said, raising his yellow umbrella.
"I'm Itsuki Kisaragi."
Something new was added to the list of things I like.