The Runner and The Rainman

Someone has told me once, he fell in love when he saw me running.

I don't know what made him said that. I'm a runner, so running is a huge piece of my life. I run as I walk to home. I run everytime my teacher calls me because I forget my homeworks. I run too, from reality, when it strangles me too hard that I can't breathe anymore.

My favourite time to run is when rain falls. It's always feel magical, having your body wet as you crashed through the water. The touch of the wind always senses gentle on my skin.

I guess he knew it, because he said that when it was raining heavily. I tied up my shoes, hair fell over my shoulder. And then he approached, with his Fixie. He has run over the rain that I could tell from the water dripping from the peak of his hair.

"Do you want to run again?" he asked.

"Yes," I said, as I straightened my back, looking at him directly. I knew him. I knew from teacher's story and my classmate's enviousness. They said he's brilliant.

"I like watching you run. I fell in love when I saw you running."

Maybe it was just me who imagined it, or maybe it was real. Maybe he regreted it because in the count of seconds, his cheeks turned red. I looked into his eyes. They seemed so genuine, so melodically beautiful.

He didn't give me a chance to reply because, soon after, he took his bicycle and rushed out of school. And I saw him, riding his bicycle in pouring rain. There was a foreign bump on my chest.

I never see him after that. He disappeared as quick as fog. Once he was there, and the next millisecond he wasn't.

And... now I can tell you, from the loneliness and hunger that I feel everytime I see rain, or wet footsteps on the floor, or the sound of bycycle's tire. I fell in love when I saw him bicycling.

I don't know what made me accidentally in love. He just seemed so naive and honest and frank, like a toddler without sin.

But I can tell you, too, that I don't hope that he'll come to me. Yet deeply, I smell his scent in rain. I hear his footstep in rain. I see his shadow, too, in rain.

Rainman, why went away that fast?

Today is raining again, though my classmates have hung teru-teru bozu behind their window. They complain again.

How sinned we are as human. We squawk when it's sunny, yet we grumble over the rain.

As usual, though, I run in the rain. I feel the drag of water, the grip of wind that kiss me gently. I smell that again. The Rainman's scent.

"Can I walk you home?"

I look after my back. I feel paralyzed. It's not rain. It's the Rainman.

My Rainman.

"I even don't know your name," I say simply.

"Raino. That's all you gotta know."

Raino. Sounds like rain.

Sounds like my name.

"Can I walk you home, Raina?" he repeats.

"Walk me home? Are you kidding?" I manage a laugh. "I never walk. Never!"

And soon after that, as though we have do it often, we start to run.