The storm hadn't stopped since yesterday.
It was as though the heavens themselves were locked in grief, unable to stop weeping.
The gray winter sky hung low over the city, and the steady drizzle of cold rain tapped softly against the windows of Akio's small apartment.
Inside, Akio sat alone in his dimly lit room, knees drawn up to himself, his chin resting on them.
The room was silent except for the rhythmic patter of rain on the glass and the occasional distant rumble of thunder.
His school bag was tossed carelessly in the corner, his uniform jacket hanging half-off his chair.
His emerald-green eyes stared blankly at the window, tracing the path of raindrops as they slid down the glass.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Why won't it stop raining...?
Every droplet sounded like a ticking clock, counting down the days until the tournament next Saturday.
The image of his "brother's" haunting emerald eyes—so much like his own—flashed through his mind again.
The teenager's voice, calm yet suffocating, echoed inside his skull:
"The truth shall be prevailed... through the likes of your next badminton tournament."
Akio's heart tightened.
He wrapped his arms around himself, his breath coming out in shaky, uneven gasps.
Why me? Why badminton? Why is he doing this?
His reflection in the window stared back at him, warped by raindrops and fogged glass.
For a terrifying moment, it didn't even look like him.
It looked like Ukio, the teenager from before—his so-called brother—mocking him with that detached, bored expression.
"Stop," Akio whispered, shutting his eyes tightly. "Just... stop."
But when he opened them again, the reflection hadn't changed.
It was still him, still Akio, just tired and terrified.
The Doorbell
Then, a sound cut through the silence like a lifeline:
Ding-dong.
Akio's head shot up, startled.
The doorbell rang again, slightly louder this time, followed by a faint knock.
His heart raced as he scrambled to his feet.
For a fleeting moment, he imagined it was him—Ukio—standing outside in the rain, waiting to twist his world even further.
Swallowing hard, Akio moved to the small security monitor mounted near the door.
The screen flickered on with a soft hum, revealing the figure standing outside.
Relief flooded Akio's body when he saw who it was.
"Yukiko...?"
On the digital display, Yukiko Hazuna stood there in the rain, waving with a big, easygoing smile.
He was wearing a transparent raincoat, his messy hair plastered to his forehead from the drizzle.
In one hand, he held a see-through umbrella that glistened under the soft glow of the streetlights.
Even through the grainy security feed, his warmth radiated like sunlight breaking through the storm.
"Yo, Akio! Open up, man!" Yukiko said, his voice slightly distorted through the speaker but still unmistakably cheerful.
Akio exhaled slowly, his muscles relaxing.
He opened the door, letting the cold, damp air rush inside.
"Yukiko... what are you doing here? It's pouring out there."
Yukiko shrugged, stepping inside and closing his umbrella with a flick.
"Yeah, no kidding. But I saw you walking home earlier when I was heading back to my place, and you looked like..."
He paused, studying Akio carefully.
"...like you were carrying the whole world on your shoulders again, honestly."
Akio looked away, embarrassed.
"I... I'm fine. You didn't have to come."
Yukiko grinned and patted him on the shoulder, droplets of rain falling from his coat.
"Of course I had to. You're my friend, Akio. You've been through too much to just sit here and stew in whatever's eating at you."
Akio hesitated, his throat tightening.
For a moment, he almost told Yukiko about Ukio, about the twisted game being played with his life.
But the words wouldn't come out.
Instead, he simply nodded and stepped aside, letting Yukiko in.
Comfort Amid the Rain
The apartment felt warmer with Yukiko there.
He hung his raincoat on the rack next to Akio's, their identical transparency catching the dim light like glass.
The two sat in the small living room, Yukiko sprawled comfortably on the couch while Akio sat on the floor, knees pulled up again. Leaning against the side of the couch.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
The rain provided a soft, constant backdrop, a soothing rhythm that filled the silence.
Finally, Yukiko broke it.
"Akio... I know you're stressed about the tournament."
Akio flinched slightly, looking up. "How... how did you know?"
Yukiko chuckled softly.
"Because I know you, seriously. You've been different ever since you found out about it.
And today, the look on your face... it wasn't just focus. It was like you were drowning."
Akio looked away, his hands clenching in his lap.
"I... I thought maybe if I held onto that stress, it would push me forward.
Like last time.
Like when I fought Sora."
Yukiko's smile faded, replaced by a deep seriousness Akio rarely saw in him.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"Akio, listen to me," he said firmly.
"That's not why you won last time. It wasn't because you were hurting.
It was because you found the will to move forward, even with all that pain.
You didn't fight because of your trauma—you fought despite it."
Akio's breath caught.
He stared at Yukiko, words failing him.
"You think stress will make you stronger," Yukiko continued, his voice steady and warm,
"but all it's gonna do is break you.
What gave you the strength to win wasn't stress—it was everyone who believed in you.
Me, Sora—even if he was your rival—everyone who cheered you on, everyone who pushed you forward."
Memories flooded Akio's mind:
Yukiko's cheering voice echoing through the tournament hall.
The crowd's roar as he scored point after point.
Even Sora's twisted taunts, which, in their own way, had lit a fire inside him.
Akio's eyes stung.
He blinked rapidly, trying to fight back tears.
"You're... you're right," he whispered.
"But... what if this time, it's not enough?
What if I can't win again?"
Yukiko reached out and placed a hand firmly on Akio's shoulder.
"You will. Because you're not alone.
This isn't just your fight—it's our fight.
And no matter what happens, I'll be right there with you."
Akio stared at him, overwhelmed.
For a moment, the storm outside seemed to fade, replaced by the warmth of that single promise.
Aesthetic Interlude
Later, the two sat by the window, sipping hot tea while the rain continued to pour outside.
The city lights blurred through the fogged-up glass, creating a dreamy, watercolor effect.
Their transparent raincoats hung side by side, dripping softly into a small bucket beneath them.
The soft glow of the room cast long, delicate shadows, turning the moment into something almost sacred.
Yukiko yawned, stretching his arms.
"You know, Akio... sometimes I think about how weird life is.
Like, we're just a couple of high school kids playing badminton, but it feels like we're fighting for something so much bigger."
Akio smiled faintly, a rare, genuine smile.
"Yeah. It does."
For the first time in days, he felt a small flicker of peace.
The storm in his heart wasn't gone, but it was quieter now, tempered by Yukiko's steady presence.
The Unspoken Fear
As Yukiko dozed lightly on the couch, Akio sat awake, staring at the folded map tucked into his bag.
The crimson shuttle symbol seemed to pulse in his mind, a reminder of what lay ahead.
Ukio...
What are you planning?
He glanced at Yukiko, sleeping peacefully.
A breath formed in Akio's throat.
I have to win.
For him.
For Sora.
For myself.
The rain outside intensified, lashing against the windows like a warning.
Akio tightened his fists, his reflection staring back at him with newfound determination.
"Next Saturday," he whispered to himself.
"I'll uncover the truth."
The screen faded to black, the sound of rain lingering as a haunting promise of the storm to come.
TO BE CONTINUED...