When the Water Rises

Under the Same Umbrella

The sky was dark with rain clouds and although the worst of the storm had passed, there was still a heavy drizzle that caused the drain pipes to overflow on the roof. The water poured from the drain pipes like a broken curtain over the sidewalk that crossed in front of the school. Students gathered under the long roof that extended from the door to the road and waited for their friends before braving the muggy weather. Their uniforms were as damp as their moods, their clothes drooping as lifelessly from their bodies as their smiles did from their faces. Walking out into the misty rain, they all looked as though they were heaving the wet rags on their arms and legs. The umbrellas resting on their shoulders looked heavy with water as they dripped onto the ground where their shoes sloshed through the puddles. The students stuck without umbrellas used newspapers or backpacks to cover their heads when they ran across the road. Students like Hana, who could barely carry their backpack as is, which was weighed down by extra books, and didn't take a newspaper from the art room or had friends to lend their umbrella, stood alone under the roof, waiting out the rain.

 Hana was one of the only boys left. He took a seat on the bench near the wall which was sheltered partly by the roof and partly by the row of trees beside it. The trees weren't so tall. The other students made a game of it to touch the lowest branch and it was almost a right-of-passage if you could climb to it without getting caught by the headmaster, whose office was in the nearest window and almost always open. Hana thought it was a bit childish but even he, as he sat there with plenty of time to himself to think, wondered if he could touch the lowest branch yet. It was his first year in middle school and it would be 'cool' if he could come back the next day, this early in the year, and boast about touching that branch first. He would surely be noticed, maybe even by that girl he met in Class 2B.

He blushed, the youthful adrenaline kicking to life in his heart as he battled with his options. It was like having those little voices on his shoulder, whispering hot lies into his ears.

They'll all think you're cool. She'll think you're cool.

He gulped, tempted to try it.
He stood up, fingers twitching on the straps of his backpack.
When he last checked, the office light was off, all he had to do was touch it.

Or climb it.

"If you're going for the tree I would wait on that. Don't worry, no one else is will get the glory first. I've been listening to the other kids and I haven't heard anything about it since the year started. It was a big deal last year you know, I'm sure the message was passed to you seventh years. I'm in my ninth year. My name's Mackenzie Watanabe by the way, what's yours?"

Mackenzie had long, light coloured hair tied back and his eyes were blue. He looked like the typical 'American' Hana heard about, breaking school regulation with his hair length and his unbuttoned uniform. Any taller and he might have thought he actually was one, even with the proper accent. He looked strange but not any stranger than his name sounded.

"Mackenzie?" Hana tried to mimic how he said it but it came out like it had been grated.

"That's right!" Mackenzie gave a hearty laugh, his shoulders bouncing. His wet uniform seemed weightless the way he effortlessly moved under them. He dug one hand in his pocket and held an umbrella out with the other. "It's foreign. My dad is the headmaster and he lived overseas for a while. He liked the name but I don't think he realised how much of a pain it would be for all my friends. He told me to go on ahead home, want me to walk you first? You don't look like you have an umbrella and it's typhoon season. It wouldn't surprise me if the weather turned nasty here in about an hour or so. Here, let me walk you."

Pushy like an American too, Hana thought as the umbrella handle was thrust into his face.
  
"What's that look for?" Mackenzie asked, inspecting that twisted look of fear on Hana's face as he pushed the umbrella handle down from his chin. "Is it the name still? What's yours?"

"Hana Saito," Hana said softly. Mackenzie had to lean in to hear him and Hana stepped aside.
"Hana, you said?" Mackenzie asked. "We both have odd names don't we?"

"My parents wanted another girl," Hana clarified. "It's not like it's an uncommon name."

"Still...," Mackenzie hummed and rolled the handle in his palm. "At least we have something we share right? That's the first step to becoming friends."

Hana could have thought of ninety-nine different ways of how to be cool to make friends. Meeting the son of the headmaster, an upperclassman with a weird name, was not one of those ways. Touching the tree branch or even climbing the tree sounded cooler by far and it would have been much easier just to do that but since they started talking, the rain had pooled at the base of the tree. Hana stepped away from the deep puddle and crashed into Mackenzie, who caught him by the shoulders.

"You okay there?" Mackenzie asked casually as he stood Hana upright across from him and checked for any signs of injury. If Hana pretended he stepped on his ankle wrong and sprained it, it would have saved him a load of embarrassment, but he couldn't think of the lie fast enough. Mackenzie was already looking past him at the tree.

"If you want to climb it that badly, I could stand guard--"

"N-no! No, I don't want to," Hana sputtered.

"But you were looking at it again--"