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Kaina first meets Rumi in a university class for which she is the TA. She’s a jaded grad student, crawling through the last semester before she finally earns her PhD, while Rumi is a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed sophomore with a fierce determination that about knocks Kaina off her feet. The professor asks a few introductory questions, including for everyone to announce one goal they have to the class. Kaina internally rolls her eyes, because she’s had to go through countless Share your name, pronouns, major, and one interesting fact about yourself sessions, and at this point, she’s over it.
Of course, she has to start, as an example. She doesn’t have goals anymore, unsure what she wants to do with this degree she’s grown to hate, because business and marketing is a farce meant to feed more money to those who already have too much. So she gives the cop-out answer of finishing her thesis and graduating at the end of the semester.
Rumi, meanwhile, declares, “I’m going to determine the scientific explanation for ball lightning!”
“Ball lightning?” Kaina asks, before she can stop herself.
Rumi grins, nodding. “It’s like a ball of lightning, basically. So rare that no one has managed to get a picture of it before, and some people don’t even believe it really exists—or they think it’s something paranormal. Maybe even extraterrestrial. But I’m going to prove that it’s real, and figure out what makes it happen!”
Something about her passionate conviction strikes a chord deep within Kaina.
She remembers when she used to feel like that about her goals.
Rumi is a meteorology major, which explains her fixation on lightning and storms of all kinds. She doesn’t want to be a meteorologist, though—she’s intent on being a storm chaser. Ironically, it’s a dream Kaina entertained when she was younger, but she was never good enough at science to excuse trying for a degree in it. Better to stick to something safe, that she was good at, no matter how miserable it makes her now.
When she voices this admission to Rumi, Rumi gives her a lopsided smile and says, “Well, maybe you’ll just have to join me sometime!”
“Maybe,” Kaina agrees, not foolish enough to hope for anything to come of Rumi’s offer.
Kaina graduates, and she and Rumi fall out of touch. Kaina spends a lot of time staring at Rumi’s number in her phone before deciding not to call, because Rumi has her own friends and she doesn’t need Kaina’s misery weighing her down. She doesn’t need to bear witness to the darkest thoughts in Kaina’s mind, insisting there’s no point to remaining alive in this world with society the way it is, insisting it’s pointless to believe in anything, insisting it will never get better.
Rumi always has hope. The best thing Kaina can do for her is let that hope remain intact.
As Kaina sinks into the darkness, she’s certain Rumi is shining like the sun—or rather, shining like the brightest bolt of lightning.
Rumi ends up on national television, doing weather reports.
Kaina ends up in prison for embezzlement.
Kaina doesn’t have friends, so when she’s alerted that someone wants to talk to her, she has no idea who it could possibly be. Still, she follows the guard out of her cell and through the halls until she’s sat in a plastic chair, facing a pane of glass with a few holes drilled through it.
On the other side sits Rumi. Her once-long hair now only reaches her shoulders, choppy, like it was burnt rather than properly cut. Kaina blinks, taking in the sight, and it takes several moments before she realizes Rumi is missing her left arm.
“What happened to you?” she blurts out.
Rumi blinks. “Me? What the fuck happened to you? I try to get back into contact with you only to find out you’re in jail? Why?!” She slams her fist on the table, rattling it. “You’re better than this!”
“You must not know me very well.”
“Kaina—”
“Rumi,” she interrupts. “I’m sick of being alive, when all I am is a pawn in some rich man’s game. As long as I’m here, I don’t have to worry about that.”
Rumi scoffs. She makes to cross her arms, only to realize she doesn’t have two arms to cross. It must be a recent loss, then. “You never did know how to do what makes you happy, did you?”
“How am I supposed to?” Kaina replies. She’s played the scenarios out in her head hundreds of times; it’s just not possible. There’s no way to be happy and earn enough money to survive—not for her. Everything she’s good at is either not monetizable or makes her miserable. And in a world like the one they live in, that makes for a pretty pitiful existence.
At least Kaina managed to do a bit of good before she was locked up. She didn’t bother keeping any of the money she stole—there was no reason for that when she knew she’d be caught. If she didn’t completely cripple that CEO, she provided people in need with finances that could save their lives, and that was more important to her.
Kaina has always longed to save people, but the only way to do so has consequences like what she’s facing now.
Rumi narrows her eyes like she can read Kaina’s thoughts and is now criticizing all of them. “You worry too much,” she says. “You gotta just do what you want, and deal with the aftermath when it comes!”
“I did,” Kaina deadpans. “It got me here.”
“Not like that! There are plenty of other things to do besides theft!”
Kaina raises an eyebrow. “Like what?”
“You could’ve joined me, for starters,” Rumi tells her, and she says it like it’s supposed to be a joke she can laugh off, but her tone holds too much sincerity for that. “I’ve been chasing storms recently. I would have loved to have you with me.”
Chasing storms, Kaina thinks. It was a dream once, but she’s not sure that hopeful little girl still exists inside of her anywhere. She’s not sure if the adventure would excite her, or if one bright moment would be the final nail in her coffin. She hasn’t had hope in a long time, but she hears herself say, “I didn’t get a life sentence, you know.”
Rumi cocks an eyebrow. “I’ll meet you when you get out, then. And we’ll track down ball lightning together.”
“Sure,” Kaina agrees, like she believes that will happen. She can’t really wrap her mind around the concept of being alive long enough to see herself walk free, but Rumi accepts her agreement with a grin. Kaina might smile in return, but she’s not sure she can remember what that feels like.
It’s been a long time since she’s had any reason to smile at all.
True to Rumi’s word, she’s the one to pick up Kaina upon her release. She has a prosthetic arm now, and Kaina has since learned that it was amputated after a freak accident during her storm chasing. Of course, Rumi didn’t let the injury stop her, nor does she seem scared of storms.
In fact, she seems even more eager to track down her favorite unexplainable phenomenon than ever before. She drives Kaina from the prison where she spent the past several years of her life to a town three hours north just so they can catch a thunderstorm.
“To celebrate,” Rumi says, her car racing down the highway twenty kilometers over the speed limit.
Kaina doesn’t think she’s really worth celebrating, but she lets Rumi have this. And when they arrive at their destination, lightning splitting the sky overhead, Kaina’s heart begins prickling with an emotion she didn’t think she was capable of feeling anymore.
There’s a twinge of fear, but…there’s also an edge of excitement.
It’s been years since Kaina was excited about anything.
With nowhere else to go, Kaina moves into Rumi’s apartment.
It’s almost too easy, how they fall back into each other’s lives. Rumi drags Kaina out—to get dinner, to meet up with friends, to dance in the rain and search the skies for the impossible. Meanwhile, Kaina offers Rumi a place to rest when she’s run herself ragged. She’s the grounding force to Rumi’s ever-spinning typhoon which prevents her from dissipating entirely.
Not that life itself is all sunny days—Kaina’s criminal record follows her even as she tries to pick things back up. But Rumi is there to offer support and give her the push she needs to keep going.
Stormy weather doesn’t seem so bleak when she has Rumi at her side through it, fawning over the dark clouds and basking in the flashes of lightning.
Speeding down the highway in Rumi’s van, she asks Kaina, “Can I ask why you did it?”
“Did what?” Kaina asks, fiddling with the dial of the radio in an attempt to find a weather report. They should be heading straight towards the heart of a summer thunderstorm, but she has thus far been unsuccessful finding anything other than music and ads.
“You know,” Rumi takes her hand off the wheel to gesture vaguely, “the embezzlement.”
Kaina grabs hold of Rumi’s wrist, guiding her hand back to the steering wheel. “I know your prosthetic works perfectly well, but please do not rely on that to drive.” She lets go of Rumi in order to shrug, folding her own hands together in her lap. “And it just seemed like the right thing to do.”
Rumi shoots her a sideways glance. “The ‘right thing’?” she questions.
“Why the hell should some multi-millionaire CEO get even richer while there are people starving?” Kaina picks at her fingernails. “The whole system sucks. So when I saw an opportunity to fight against it, I took it. I didn’t have anything left to live for anyway.”
Rumi doesn’t reply right away. When Kaina dares to look up at her, she finds a wide grin splitting her face and a sparkle in her eye that wasn’t there before.
“What?” she demands.
“You didn’t,” Rumi replies. “But you do have something to live for now! Otherwise you wouldn’t care about my bad driving.”
“Maybe I just don’t want to get in a car accident,” Kaina grumbles. Rumi is right, though—these days, she’s finding it’s easier to get out of bed. The dredges of hopelessness that once weighed her down are not so strong anymore. On a global level, everything is still miserable, but Kaina sinking into despair certainly won’t do anything to change that. There are better things she can do with her time.
There are storms to chase and scientific mysteries to unravel.
“Because you want to live,” Rumi emphasizes.
Kaina turns her head, gazing out the window at the dark storm clouds looming ahead.
“Alright,” she relents. “Yes, I do. So keep your eyes on the road.”
Rumi cackles like rain pattering against the windows. Kaina is so grateful she stuck around long enough to hear that sound again.
The heat of August breaks for an autumn chill, and then a snowy winter. Rumi entertains herself with less hands-on research; Kaina spends her time hopping between jobs and acting as Rumi’s rubber duck when needed. The days pass, and Kaina finds herself looking forward to spring.
Excitement is a sensation she still struggles with, but she’s getting better at it.
In mid-March, Rumi drags Kaina out of bed at four in the morning so they can drive three hours south, in the hope of catching a storm. Kaina calls in sick to work at 5:30, speeding down a highway, as the sun is just breaching the horizon. She hopes her manager can’t hear Rumi’s giggles in the background, but at the same time, she doesn’t really care. This is what she lives for, and she’d sacrifice anything in order to chase after it.
No matter what happens, as long as she’s with Rumi, she can believe everything will work out.
“Oh, so you’re just as batshit insane as Rumi-chan,” Takeyama comments. It’s only about the third thing she’s said to Kaina ever, but in the five minutes since Kaina met her, she quickly realized Takeyama is the sort of person who just speaks her mind without sugarcoating. They’re at a bar—the three of them, plus Takeyama’s boyfriend—because Rumi got a call from her friend asking to hang out and she insisted on bringing Kaina along. So she can meet new people, or whatever.
Nishiya nudges Takeyama, frowning. “Be nice,” he scolds.
She raises an eyebrow. “Are you telling me you don’t think it’s crazy to drive straight into a tornado?”
“I mean—”
“It’s fun!” Rumi interrupts. She hooks her arm around Kaina’s shoulders, dragging her in closer. “You’ve never known real thrill until you’re stalled in a torrential downpour and wondering if the wind is gonna knock your van on its side. Isn’t that right?”
“It makes you feel alive,” Kaina agrees. The rush of adrenaline, the fear and elation swirling into one, the thundering cacophony and the brilliant sights… It’s everything Kaina lives for, really. It’s what keeps her going when dark thoughts drag her down; it reminds her why she’s putting in all the effort to stay alive.
Storms, and Rumi, who is basically a storm wearing human skin herself.
“If you insist…” Takeyama shakes her head in disbelief. “I guess it’s a good thing you two found each other. So you can match each other’s death wish freak, or whatever.”
Rumi snorts. “Yeah,” she agrees. She turns to look at Kaina, affection shining in her eyes. “It’s pretty much the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Kaina wakes to the sound of pouring rain and a clap of thunder.
She blinks tiredly, glancing toward the clock on her nightstand. 12:08 a.m. She hadn’t realized it was supposed to storm tonight, but it’s summer again, so it’s likely this one popped up on the radar suddenly at some point after she fell asleep. It doesn’t sound like it’s going to end any time soon, so she drags herself out of bed. She’s certain Rumi is already watching from the balcony—she’s a far lighter sleeper than Kaina, and keeps an even closer eye on the weather.
Sure enough, Rumi is already outside when Kaina steps through the door. She’s soaked to the bone, but her camera is set up with all of the proper waterproofing precautions.
Kaina drops a plastic poncho over her. “You’re going to catch a cold,” she admonishes.
“You’re a little late,” Rumi teases, though she doesn’t throw the poncho off. She doesn’t have her prosthetic on, so Kaina helps her settle it over her body properly, even though it won’t really do much good at this point. “Besides, I didn’t have time. This one came in fast! I’m still missing an arm!” She gestures to the stump of her left arm to emphasize her point.
“If you get sick and die, you won’t have time for any more storm watching ever again,” Kaina points out.
Rumi hums. “Sounds fake. I’d come back as a ghost to keep you company.”
Kaina chuckles as she falls into place beside Rumi. The sky lights up over their heads as lightning arches across it. “A ghost can’t publish research papers,” she points out.
“Good point,” Rumi relents. “But I don’t think a little cold will kill me. Not when I have you to nurse me back to health!” She grins up at Kaina.
Kaina flushes, averting her gaze. “Whatever,” she mumbles.
The storm rages on around them, and Rumi presses close against Kaina’s side. And as much as Kaina loves chasing down inclement weather, her favorite storms will always be the ones that find her and Rumi where they are. There’s something special about being able to watch the beauty of a thunderstorm from the comfort of the home she and Rumi have made together. The view here is expansive, looking over the town—Rumi chose to live here specifically because the balcony is such a great lookout for storms, and Kaina always feels honored that she gets to experience this too.
Her life doesn’t look anything like how she imagined it would when she was young, or even how she pictured her future during her time in university. But she’s glad she made it this far, because it’s even better than anything she could have imagined for herself. Because she has Rumi, who dances with her through the storms, and that renders everything else inconsequential.
A bolt of lightning splits the sky down the middle, illuminating the night, and—
“Holy shit,” Rumi whispers, as the resulting thunder clap shakes the ground beneath them. She grabs onto Kaina’s arm. “Kaina, holy SHIT!!”
In the wake of the lightning bolt, lightning up the sky, there remains what Kaina can only describe as a ball of lightning. Pure electricity, crackling, hovering in midair. It floats for several long moments, wobbling as it moves through the sky. Kaina can scarcely breathe, and Rumi’s fingers are digging into her arm hard enough she’s sure it will be bruised come morning.
It, by far, the most enchanting sight she has ever beheld.
For a brief eternity, all that exists in the world is Kaina, Rumi, and the rare scientific phenomenon before them.
Then, the ball bursts in an explosion of light. Kaina ducks away from it on instinct, though they’re not close enough to be injured. Rumi stands tall, drinking in the sight, and when Kaina looks back up, there’s a wild glint in her eyes.
“It exists,” she murmurs, awed.
“It sure does,” Kaina agrees. She feels half-hysterical, drunk on the thrill. This is what it feels like to be fully and completely alive—she can’t believe she gave up on this. She’d trek through years of miserable flooding just for the chance to experience this again.
Rumi turns to face her, grinning madly. “When I publish my findings,” she says, “I’ll dedicate the whole thing to you.”
Kaina laughs. She doesn’t really mean too—it just sort of slips out, an instinctive reaction to the heightened adrenaline still coursing through her veins. And then, she lunges forward, wrapping Rumi up in a hug. She might be crying, but it’s hard to tell with all the rain.
Thunder booms overhead, but Kaina scarcely registers it.
“I can’t wait.”