The rainy season started to end, he came less and less. The less rain, the less he came. There was a day where the rain came and he didn't. Instead a dark haired boy was there, standing where the other stood but facing the tall building instead of the street. When the boy left the other was back. A different expression hidden in his eyes, heartbreak. I left my apartment with my umbrella in hand.

"Here, you'll get sick." I stood next to him and held the umbrella over the both of us.

"You come here a lot. I see you every time it rains..." 

"Is this place special to you?" 

He slowly turned his head and looked down at me, his eyes still empty, his expression still hollow. 

His lips parted, "I guess you could say that..."

It was the first time I had seen him speak, the first time I heard him too. 

It sounded dull, like a beach during low tide, exposing all the remnants of what had been washed up and left behind. 

It sounded as if it pained him.