Kitano stood there for a moment longer before slowly turning around and heading home.
It was precisely at the moment he stepped out of the station hall that the previously clear sky, as if to echo the quiet emptiness that had spread through his heart, suddenly darkened.
Thick, lead-gray clouds swept in from the horizon at a visible speed, pressing low over the city’s dome.
The world seemed to be veiled in a layer of gray, all scenery losing its original vibrant colors, uniformly toned into a calm and melancholic hue.
A cool, damp breeze passed through the gaps between tall buildings, blowing directly at him.
Rain was coming soon.
Normally, facing such a sudden change in weather, Kitano might instinctively quicken his pace.
But at this moment, a strange state of mind dominated him.
He didn’t rush to catch the bus that was about to arrive; instead, he felt a sense of aimless leisure and decided to walk home slowly along the familiar streets.
This sudden gloom, far from bringing oppression, felt more like a reprieve.
The number of pedestrians on the street had noticeably thinned.
In a roadside cafe, a few young people were arguing heatedly about an Uma Musume when large raindrops suddenly splattered onto the awning.
“Mejiro McQueen can definitely dominate the Tenno Sho (Spring)…”
Splat!
“Is it raining?”
The argument ceased abruptly.
Just as they scrambled to gather their belongings, the downpour began, and the drumming of the rain instantly drowned out all discussions about Uma Musume.
Only Kitano walked with a composed pace, moving in a rhythm that was out of sync with his surroundings.
He felt as if he had been temporarily released from a ubiquitous, noisy order—it wasn’t about Oguri Cap; she was a part of his tranquility.
What he was escaping were the pervasive Uma Musume news, the fervent fan discussions on the streets, the overwhelming merchandise in stores, and the constant excited predictions for the next G1 race that always permeated the air.
Under nearby eaves, two tall, elegant Uma Musume were also sheltering from the rain.
Their ears twitched slightly from the dampness, and one of them was earnestly analyzing, “So I believe that Mejiro McQueen’s pacing in long-distance races…”
Before she could finish, the rain intensified, and the drumming sound instantly swallowed the rest of her tactical analysis.
The other Uma Musume looked at the rain curtain, then suddenly changed the subject, her voice becoming lighter.
doesn’t it resemble that ancient Japanese word for rain hitting leaves?
Sara-sara…”
Her companion paused, then chuckled softly.
“Indeed.”
As an outsider who kept a respectful distance from that fervor, this brief, entirely personal moment of solitude felt particularly justified and precious because of the untimely weather.
He no longer had to subconsciously filter out all Uma Musume-related information; he could completely clear his mind and just feel his own breath.
He took a deep breath of the damp, cool air.
The surrounding silence was not absolute; a faint city hum came from afar, and nearby was the rustling of wind through leaves.
Far from breaking the tranquility, these sounds further highlighted the somber and serene atmosphere of this world.
Enveloped in this atmosphere, his natural breathing became palpable, and his own heart, accustomed to maintaining detachment in a noisy culture, finally relaxed, its resonance becoming clearer.
However, this serenity was not stagnant.
The wind began to grow restless, coming in stronger gusts.
The clouds rolled, growing darker, and the air became thick and humid, saturated with moisture.
The rain was suspended, yet to fall.
This state of suspension stirred a subtle, ineffable tension within Kitano’s heart.
It was like a colossal emotion still accumulating, like a fully drawn bow, held taut but not released.
He stood below his apartment building, not going in immediately, but instead looked up at the surging, undulating sea of clouds that seemed almost within reach.
A mix of anticipation, tension, and even a hint of apprehension intertwined in his heart.
What was he anticipating?
Was it the inevitable, heavy downpour?
Oguri Cap’s departure meant that the most concrete link to that fervent world by his side had temporarily left.
And this impending rain, poised to fall, seemed like a pure, natural new chapter, full of unknown possibilities.
The low-hanging sky, in his eyes at this moment, was no longer a symbol of oppression; instead, it was like a gentle metaphor, silently telling him that life contained more than just one voice, one passion. Find the original chapter at novelping . com.
This detachment and quietness also added weight and depth to existence.
Finally, a few large, heavy raindrops tentatively fell.
Then, as if hearing a bugle call to charge, billions of raindrops broke free from the clouds’ embrace, pouring down and instantly forming an overwhelming curtain of rain.
The drumming of the rain replaced all the world’s noise, becoming incredibly pure and powerful.
On the giant electronic screen of the building opposite, a beverage advertisement endorsed by an Uma Musume still flickered silently.
The meticulously designed slogans and stirring background music were now completely washed away, dissolved in the deluge of rain, no longer able to reach anyone’s heart.
Kitano no longer hesitated, turning and quickly walking into the building’s hallway.
Returning to the apartment, which had suddenly become overly quiet and empty, he didn’t turn on the lights.
The interior was dim, forming two distinct worlds with the pouring rain outside the window.
He walked to the window, stood there quietly, watching the rain furiously beat against the glass, winding its way down.
The immense sound of the rain was like a thick sonic cocoon, tightly enveloping him.
In this extreme clamor, he instead felt an inner, deep tranquility.
This curtain of rain was like a solid barrier, completely isolating the fervent world filled with Uma Musume culture outside.
He couldn’t hear the cheers of races, couldn’t hear the arguments of fans, only the pure power of the rain.
The external scene perfectly mirrored and resonated with his inner structure, which sought peace at this moment.
The desire for tranquility and the appreciation of complexity intertwined into a poetic web.
He was involuntarily drawn to this storm, as if in its natural grandeur, he could glimpse life’s most real, unadorned aspect—a tumultuous yet deeply poetic force.
What made him feel free was never the weather itself, but the indestructible barrier constructed by the sound of rain, the precious moment he gained when the fervent order of daily life was forcibly interrupted, allowing him to be safely alone and not have to deal with the outside world.
Outside the window, the rain continued to fall tirelessly.
Kitano stood by the window for a long time, until the streetlights in the blurry rain curtain lit up one after another, like gentle yet firm hearts, pulsating in the damp night.
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