A middle-aged man came.
All black, no hoodie or umbrella, just his hair to shield him from the rain. Similar to how the man with the cup in his hand looked. Though, there was a big difference between the two. Aside from a small grocery bag that was only slightly pulling it down, the middle-aged man did not look; his hands never left his pockets, and even his expression remained unchanged. No matter how the rain had fallen on his face, he endured it—no, he didn't even do that. He didn't care enough to force himself to apathy. He was just.
When the expressionless man passed the tree, the boy joined him, tagging along slightly behind as he tugged his pants with a warm smile on his face.
For the last time, the boy looked back.
His eyes met the man standing by the tree with the cup in his hand. Watching him get further away, the boy showed the whiteness of his teeth, then waved at the man, turning his head as he got closer to the expressionless man, just slightly behind.
The man watched them leave.
They've almost left his vision. Only the boy's little silhouette was visible in the midst of that darkness. Eventually, the void devoured even that.
The man looked at the cup, his hand still covering the top.
"I don't even know how much time I have left," he said, his hand about to reach his pocket.
Just then, the ground trembled.
The sky lit up. A rigid white line split the clouds in half. Ears rang. Vision still carried that line burned into it. Moments have passed. The rainfall was barely audible.
Rain exploded on the ground.
The sky turned back to the state it had been in before. Just the gray clouds, painting the entire sky in a mystic dark purple color.
Leaves fell.
The ground was still shaking beneath his feet. The whole path in his vicinity was covered with fallen leaves.
He looked up.
There was one leaf still falling, secluded from all the rest. Dry.
The man pulled his hand away from the top of the cup, watching the leaf fall towards his extended hand.
He caught it.
Water droplets started to fall on it.
When it succumbed to its fate, the wind picked it up from his palm and took it away, sending it back to the cafe.
After a few seconds, that leaf was no longer visible.
He stood under the tree, still looking for the cafe. He didn't see it anymore. Only the mist.
He kept looking, standing in the middle of the storm with only his hoodie to protect him from the relentless weather. His hair swayed into his vision, covering the sky as he looked up.
The cold wind pushed his cheeks back. A stinging pain ran through his body where his skin came into direct contact with the cold rain. His clothes were yanked by the wind, tearing some of their parts apart. Ears were unable to recognize his own breathing as the violent noise invaded his state of being. Rain, like thorns to his skin, stung.
His head high, darkness was the only thing he saw.
Is this how I want it to end…?
Standing here, taking my last breath, here in the rain?
Is this what I want…?
He shifted to his trembling hand.
Just moments before, that leaf was in it. If he could just grab it with more force, he would still have it. If he weren't such a fool, he could have held onto it. But he let it go. And now, he can't go back to a time when he didn't.
Standing there with the rain-filled coffee cup in his hand, he closed his eyes, no longer seeing his blood-colored hand. Not the raging storm, nor the rain pouring on him was felt anymore. He closed all that out.
Then he pictured himself buried in dirt inside a hole he had dug, barely hearing anything of the outside world. Though, this was nothing new. As long as he can remember, he has never left that hole. In there, the rain could never reach him. In there, the cold could never graze him. That place provided him with enough heat to survive, but other than that, he got nothing else. Although none of that mattered anymore. With the little time he had, he should've given up on anything and accepted the inevitable.
Nobody had the power to challenge fate. This journey was always destined to fail. There was no cosmic event that prevented him from finding the path to a better life. The only thing that ever kept him from the final gate was himself.
This dirt he was buried under was just the consequence of the path he chose not to walk, and so, this hole will be the last thing he ever sees.
However, even in that dark and narrow space, something came. Something that didn't let him be there anymore ignited: a faint voice, one that he could still hear from deep within. A voice that, after a long time, returned.
.
…Live…
.
Was it his? Was it somebody else?
He didn't care anymore.
His eyes opened.
The first thing he saw was…