Work Text:
Rain raps against the window to my left, pitter-pattering away while I’m trying to work. Every droplet clacks hard against the glass and pierces my concentration. I don’t like the rain. It’s heavy and gloomy and the humidity that comes before it always clings in-between my fingers. It’s bearable, but I don’t enjoy it. I don’t enjoy this work, either; some boring-as-sin routine report that I’ve done a hundred times before, something about my Mindhacking statistics, the guards who look after me, my schedule that month, blah blah blah. The ludicrous amount of blank lines and droning text just on one page of five makes my head spin. I flip to the back side to see if there’s anything more tolerable, forgetting that I’ve done that at least three times already—and no, it’s all the same. It all blends together into a murky mess of word soup in my brain and I simply can’t be bothered to pick it apart to read it. I click my pen open and closed while I stare holes into a blank line, waiting for a good answer to come to me.
Click, click. Click, click.
Still nothing. Raindrops clack against the glass outside. Pitter-patter, pitter-patter. I stop fiddling with my pen and turn to look at the widow, watching droplets turn to rivulets in zig-zag lines. I’m sure the captain enjoys the rain. They like everything outdoors, after all, they’re always talking to me about it. Perhaps tomorrow they’ll come to me with a tale about how relaxing it was to stand outside and watch it, inviting me to do the same sometime. Perhaps…
I struggle to imagine what could possibly be enjoyable about such an experience. I click my pen again and again as I try to picture what possible earthly reason one could enjoy subjecting themself to the harsh weather willingly.
…It wouldn’t be boring, that’s for sure. The weather waits for no one, changing as it pleases. There’s always something new with it every day.
…Flowers need the rain to grow, don’t they? Ah, but only wildflowers do. And they’re never as pretty as the ones I ask FORMAT to order for me.
…Admittedly, I haven’t actually seen that many before, but they surely can’t be as impressive as a carefully cultivated gerbera.
I think back to when the captain discussed the rain with me before, saying something about it being “refreshing”. Perhaps, there truly could be something to make it worthwhile. I picture myself, standing right outside the facility’s entrance…
~▼~
It’s cold, but survivable. Much like FORMAT’s room in the basement, the air chills me to the bone and I see my own breath drift away in clouds. The air is damp and the earthy smell of rainwater floods my nose. A veil of mist shrouds everything before us, save for the wispy shapes of trees, their leaves shivering and shaking in the downpour. I feel I should be shivering too, but I’m not, somehow. I feel the presence of someone watching me from inside and I turn around to face them—there is no one else there, just the glass double doors of the facility’s entrance. What’s strange is how I’ve even made it out here without FORMAT noticing. What’s stranger is that I don’t feel wracked with guilt for doing so. Perhaps I’m more confident because I’m in good company.
Captain Rebecca stands next to me, clad in rain-gear already prepared; a translucent plastic poncho cloaks their entire body up to their knees, with dark pants and tall rain boots to accompany it. Underneath the plastic, I’m able to see the first layer of a black jacket. I’m sure it’s far from comfortable, but I can’t deny that it’s a sharp look. Of course, I’m also sharply-dressed in my usual suit, yet I am wholly unprotected from the rain. The captain seems to notice this, as I hear them sigh dejectedly.
“I’m sorry about the weather…” They mutter, sounding guilty.
“Why?” I ask. “Did you make the clouds?”
“Well, no, but… this is your first time outside of the facility in twenty years! I was so excited, I packed all of these clothes, but I forgot to bring an umbrella... I wanted to make it special, take you somewhere nice, but now…” They hang their head in shame, clutching one arm with her other hand. I tilt my head, puzzled. Surely, I think, the two of us just standing outside together is remarkable in itself, isn’t it?
“Ah, here,” the captain pipes up suddenly and shucks their rain poncho, draping it over my shoulders instead. It then occurs to me that they have been wearing a hooded jacket underneath the additional hood of their rain clothes, and I am charmed by their ingenuity.
“The weather report over the radio this morning said there’d be a chance for rain, but I figured it would be light enough that we wouldn’t have to worry… I think we can still make it, though. Oh, I invited the rookie and his friend to come along with us, by the way. I hope you don’t mind, I just thought you were familiar enough with them that it’d help take the edge off going someplace new. Of course, I understand if you’d prefer…”
I nod along absently, only half-listening to their words. I am always warmed by their consideration of my needs, but presently, I am captivated by the glistening rain drip-dropping from the canopy. The misty air is frigid and I know the water must be even colder. I’m thankful that I’ve never had to suffer the brunt of it, being kept safe inside the facility for all these years. Still, the thought of being out here without ever touching the rain…
The captain is still in the middle of rambling when I take a few steps forward, slowly reaching my hand out to cup the falling water in my palm. Sure enough, the icy little droplets nearly make me recoil, yet I am hypnotized by the forming of tiny damp dots on the white fabric of my glove. The rational germaphobe within me is screaming to draw back; rainwater is unimaginably dirty, isn’t it?! Who knows what could be getting on my gloves! My precious, delicate gloves! …And yet, I just keep letting it fall on me.
“….Doctor?” The captain asks, moving to stand next to me. “What are you doing? Your glove is getting wet...”
An idea crosses my mind and I give a devilish smirk.
“Exactly,” I say. “So now, I can do this!”
With that, I smear my sodden palm across the side of Rebecca’s face and they yelp, stricken by the bitter cold of both rainwater and my utter betrayal.
“Doctor…!” They gasp, cupping their hand over their cheek like they’ve been burned. For a moment, I almost feel guilty. That is, until they cross their arms and turn away with such adorable indignation that I can’t help but be smitten.
“How could you…” Rebecca beseeches, their voice uncharacteristically grim. They softly jab me in the side with their elbow, careful enough to not knock me off my feet, but still catch me off guard.
“Ah!” Now it’s my turn to cry out in surprise. “Attacking a Mindhacker now, are you!?” I shout, appalled by the captain’s audacity. “I’ll have you fired for this!”
“Oh dear,” they bemoan, very seriously. “My illustrious career…all down the drain.” I can tell they’re considering their fate with utmost sincerity, because they’re holding their chin between their finger and thumb, as they often do while carefully contemplating something. “Well, I hope you’ll at least be able to protect yourself. Of course, you’re a genius, so it shouldn’t be too much of a problem,” they say, turning to me, and I can hear a smile creeping into their voice. “But your physical strength is… how do I say it… a bit lacking.”
I scoff, offended. “Oh, I’ll show you physical strength!” I decree before reaching out and pinching her cheek as hard as I can. The shadow cast over Rebecca’s face masks her immeasurable suffering.
“Ah… The pain,” She says, flatly. “It’s unbearable.”
She fails to convince me that I’ve thoroughly put her in her place and I quickly devise another plan.
“Well…! How about this!?” I say before holding my hand up straight like a spade and firmly jabbing her side. Rebecca lets out a squeak that is so adorably helpless that it’s wholly unbecoming of the HOTFIX captain’s indomitable visage.
“N-No! Stop that!” She pleads, a giggle bubbling between her words. I revel in her newly discovered weakness and poke her again and again. My attacks make her stumble backwards as her body twists to escape my unyielding hands. Of course, she can easily overpower me in the blink of an eye to get me to stop, but she never does—she’s completely vulnerable with me, refusing to put up a fight. “Ah! Nooo, Doctorrr!! Aha!”
Satisfied with my victory, I relent and let her collect herself. Still giggling, she stands up straight and puts her hands against my arms. I hold up my pointer finger as I lecture her.
“Never underestimate the power of a genius, dear Rebecca.”
She nods with a sigh. “Of course, of course. I admit defeat.”
Her hands stay on my arms for another moment longer and my confidence wanes slightly. I’m unable to parse what she's thinking as she stares up at me, before her arms move to my middle and lock firmly around me, pulling me right against her. She effortlessly hoists me up and carries me out of the canopy, directly into the pouring rain.
“W-Wha…!?” I stammer, dumbstruck. “What is the meaning of this!? I thought you surrendered!”
Rebecca spins the both of us in a circle, like we’re partners in some sort of slow-dance. Chilly rainwater seeps into both of our clothes, ruining our outfits, and just she laughs all the while.
“H-Hey! Answer me! Enough of this foolishness! Enough, I tell you!” A laugh of my own betrays my angered words. As the two of us twirl in the rain, I find I’m too mesmerized by the person below me to feel dizzy. The sound of the downpour melts away and all I hear is her delighted voice. I’ve heard her laugh before, but it was always a short, sweet little thing—gone as soon as it came, like dandelion puffs in the wind. It’s not a boisterous laughter that wracks her whole body, but a light, blissful sound that’s still just a little reserved—so wholly unlike her, and so undeniably perfect. I can’t see the look on my face, but I know it must be horribly embarrassing; some dopey starry-eyed smile that I’d never be caught dead wearing with anyone else. Rebecca slows to a stop and sets me down gently, still with her arms around me. Holding me close, her head rests against my chest. I can’t see the look on her face, but I imagine her smiling as she lets out a content sigh.
Our clothes are both soaked, hers more than mine. My sleeves are not spared by the plastic cloak and its hood has fallen to my shoulders, leaving my hair disheveled and drenched. Her hood is crumpled and askew, raindrops beading on top of it. The two of us look a mess, and I’ve never felt so happy about it. It’s so dreadfully improper. And so, so very right.
“I’m… sorry for doing that so suddenly,” Rebecca says, releasing me and stepping back to meet my eyes. “I’m just…very happy. I’m happy you’re finally here.”
I tisk at her and wag my finger.
“Nothing to apologize for, my dear. We’re not at work.”
“You keep calling me that,” she muses, tilting her head. I hear a smile in her voice and something inside of me melts. I’m suddenly inclined to hide my face and I look away, suppressing the urge to tap my fingers together.
“Just thought I’d try something new,” I play it off, cooly, despite the warmth blossoming in my chest, creeping up my neck.
“I like it,” she says, leaning forward to rest her head on my shoulder. I flawlessly pretend like it doesn’t make me swoon to have her this close. I feel the absence of something I hadn’t realized was there before, some sort of wall between the two of us that kept us at arms-length—the need to be professional, to carefully balance the fragile lives of reformation targets and HOTFIX guards at all times. For a moment, it’s almost like that all fades away, like nothing else exists except for us.
“ …eeeyy! HEEEYYY!! ”
Key word: almost.
We turn our heads to the incessant cries of a young man desperately trying to make himself heard over the rain. It figures our moment of privacy was fleeting, as they often are nowadays. For some reason, I do not find myself annoyed with that. I briefly look over at Rebecca again and my chest feels full with a light feeling I can’t quite describe. I fight the urge to link my arm with hers as the echoed thumping of sneakers stumbles to a halt and two newcomers stand before us, holding a large blue tarp over their heads. The shorter of the two slumps over slightly, still holding the plastic cover as he fights to catch his breath.
“C-Captain! Doctor!!” The young man speaks with the spirited voice of the newbie guard. For a moment, I hardly recognize him—it’s strange seeing him without his usual uniform (because, frankly, his voice is the one thing that distinguishes him from most), but his sharp teeth and round face tell me it’s him. He wears a cap with a brim that casts a shadow over his eyes and his sweater and pants are darkened with rainwater.
“Sorry for…taking so long…!” He gasps, one hand on his knee while the other holds the tarp. “I figured I should bring an umbrella, but the wind blew it inside-out, so I went back to go get a tarp…” He straightens up to gesture his free hand to the burly fellow beside him.
“But then, this guy INSISTED on catching a stupid frog he found, so I had to stop everything to drag him along!!”
“Hi guyyys~!” The guy in question pipes up, with a voice as giddy as it is gruff. “Don’t worry, I caught it!”
Unid looks gleeful as ever, with his usual track-jacket and baggy pants, now with grass-stains on the knees, both also soaked. I lean over a bit to see him clasping something carefully in his hands.
“Ugh… now I have to hold this damn thing up all by myself, you jerk!!” Newbie grumbles, turning to his cohort.
“Whaaat, no way! I’m helping too! See? It’s stuck to my spike!” Sure enough, the plastic sheet was being propped up by the uppermost spike atop the urchin’s head.
“Stop that!” Newbie snaps. “You’re gonna poke a hole in it!!”
As the two begin their usual one-sided bickering, Rebecca and I look to each other again.
“It seems the cavalry has arrived,” she says, amused.
“Shall we?” I ask.
She nods and the two of us walk over to join them underneath the tarp, feeling like royal patrons being escorted to our chariot.
“Beckyyy! Hey, check this out!” Unid says, holding up his cupped hands. “I caught a frog all by myself! Isn’t that cool!?”
“Ah… yes, that’s impressive, but… isn’t it dangerous? For the frog, I mean.” She tilts her head, looking at his hands. “I’ve heard that they breathe through their skin, so contact with dry human skin isn’t very good for them.”
“Oh, I heard that too, but don’t worry!” He assures. “I know that’s a problem for others, but my skin absorbs water!”
Curious, I lean over a bit to snoop. It’s as he says; there’s a sheen of rainwater on his violet skin and it looks smooth to the touch.
“And since it’s raining, I got a lot of it on me. So this little guy should be a-okay for a bit!”
“I see,” Rebecca says warmly, putting a hand on her chest. “That’s fortunate.”
“Lucky for you,” Newbie scoffs. “You don’t even have to worry about the rain. But WE do! So try to be a little more sensitive when taking me out frog-hunting for a million years!!”
“Huuuh? But you offered to help, Newbie!” Unid responds in earnest. “You said you’d never back down from a challenge, so you spent that whole time looking for it with me!”
“I only did that to get you to hurry up!! I’m FREEZING now!!”
As Newbie grouses, I then notice how he’s been shivering slightly this whole time. Rebecca wastes no time in offering to help.
“It’s a little rain-soaked now,” she says, “but I can try to wring out my jacket if you need it.”
“Oh, no, no! That’s okay! I’m not that cold, actually…” Newbie predictably shuts her down, stammering. Perhaps I have already contracted a fever from the rainwater seeping into my head, because I start feeling strangely generous.
“I don’t suppose you could use this, then?” I turn to him, tugging the hem of Rebecca’s lovingly-donated rain poncho. Newbie lights up for a moment, perhaps awestruck that I would try to help him with anything of my own volition, before he quickly shakes his head.
“O-oh, God, no! I can’t do that to you, Doctor…!” He declines, bashfully. “Um, thank you for offering though… Oh, hey!” He perks up then, shuffling to the side to make a space for me. “Uh, come stand over here, it’s a lot drier!”
I nod and trade places with him, now standing between him and Unid. I’m left longing for Rebecca’s proximity once more, but I do not have the heart to complain. I am not sure what’s wrong with me today. Despite everything there is to dislike about this situation, I feel content in a way I’ve never quite felt before. It’s intoxicating. It’s… not right. Or, maybe it is? There’s a twist of shame in my stomach and I cast a glare back at the facility’s entrance. I do not feel inclined to go back. Is this… really okay? Is it okay to want this, to be here? I think back to that moment with Rebecca from earlier, how good it felt to be free…
“Okay, so, good news and bad news!” Newbie’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “Bad news, that spot I said we should go to is closed because of the rain. Good news, there’s a nice café right around there that’s still open! You guys wanna go there instead?”
“That sounds lovely,” Rebecca says with a nod. “I assume you know the route already, then?”
The two of them begin to discuss their new plan and I stop paying attention, content with just listening to the sounds of their voices. To my right, I catch a gleam in the urchin’s orange eye that tells me he wants my attention.
“Look, Doc! Look!! I got a froggie!” Unid says, bouncing in place. I turn to inspect what he’s got. He brings up his rugged hands close to his eye and peeps through a crack in his thick fingers, looking delighted at whatever he sees in there. “Hehe… It’s so bumpy and cute… Here, you wanna hold him?” He looks up and holds his hands out to me. Startled, I raise my hands and begin to politely decline, but he cuts me off.
“C’mooon, hold him!”
As he begins to unfurl his hands to reveal the little creature inside, Newbie rejoins me at my side, unable to get another word in before a brown toadlet leaps at his face.
“AAHH!!” He screams. “IT JUMPED ON ME!!!”
Rebecca and I share a laugh as the poor kid tries to scoop the amphibian off of him with one hand while Unid desperately struggles to get him to hold still. I feel something new, yet not unfamiliar. Under the cover beneath the cold rain, I feel warm. Complete. Happy…
~▼~
A grumble of thunder snaps me out of my daydream and I’m right back in my office, warm and dry and safe from the rain. As the impatient black-and-white of an unfinished document stares back at me, I am reminded that none of that was real, and it never will be. It’s just so. I’ve never smelled the rain, or even seen a real frog. …I do not know why that bothers me. I promised I’d accompany the captain outside someday, so it’s not impossible. But, I don’t like the rain, and I don’t like frogs. I like flowers and Mindhacking and making FORMAT happy. She’ll be happy to know I’ve finished this paper before tomorrow, so long as I get the damn thing done while I’m up for it. I click my pen open and closed, over and over.
Click, click, click.
And… I like my talks with the captain. And, it’s never boring to watch that newbie guard and his urchin-buddy squabble. …But, I don’t need it. I need to be here. I need to be here, so I can finish this paper. Just this last paper…
Click, click.
I fill in a blank with Rebecca’s name and click the pen closed, setting it neatly to the side. If I have to look at these blank lines any longer, I fear my brain will melt. Tomorrow, I decide. I’ll finish it tomorrow. The sky is dark now, but the rain persists. Pitter-patter, pitter-patter.
I look to my side and marvel at my array of flowers. I can’t remember the last time I’ve gotten to look at them properly. I push myself back from my desk and rise to my feet, walking over to ponder my collection. For a moment, it looks as if their petals are stretching out to the glass, like they’re reaching for the rain, yearning to taste it… I don’t know why I think that. They have plenty of water indoors, and they’ve already been picked anyway, so its not like they need it anymore. The flowers don’t want the rain. Flowers don’t want anything.
A few in particular catch my eye and I reach my hand over to touch their petals. I run my thumb over the ruffles of a striped carnation, its blood-red trimming beautifully contrasting its pale underbelly. I wonder if it’s lonely. I trace over a bright marigold, the pleating of its petals falling perfectly back in place. I feel like it’s waiting for something. Ah. Perhaps this much paperwork really has driven me insane. I see a few other lilies, daisies, tulips, but I’ve seen them all before. They’re still beautiful, of course, but I’m not quite as interested in them now. I ought to ask FORMAT for my bimonthly fresh order of flowers soon, anyway. …I wonder if there are any flowers particularly fond of the rain. I sit back down and move the papers aside, reaching for my keyboard. It takes two clicks to open a search engine and my fingers soar over the clackety keys. In the blink of an eye, I’m graced with numerous articles giving me my answer.
I decide I’ll ask FORMAT for a shipment of rain lilies next time.