Shika stared pensively out the window. It was raining again. The tiny drops beat their bodies against the window in an endless and futile attempt to get inside. She hated the rain. It always brought glimpses of her deeply- buried memory to the surface, to spin around her mind like fallen leaves caught in an eddy of wind. An image of the once-bright moon shimmered into her mind. Shika traced the path of one little raindrop down the window as a lonely tear rolled down her cheek. A hand came down to rest on her shoulder. Shika flinched unintentionally. "You ok?" "Mm." She sighed and turned around to face Toshiro. His eyes radiated concern for her and she suddenly had the urge to throw her arms around him. Instead, she averted her eyes to stare at the floor. "You sure?" Shika sighed again. "No. But don't ask me what's wrong, cause I don't want to have to lie to you."

"Alright." She reached for his hand that was still on her shoulder. "I hate the rain." Toshiro was silent. It was best not to ask things or interrupt when Shika was like this. "It brings back memories that I don't want brought back. I buried them so deep, they shouldn't be able to surface, but they do." She stared at the scars on her left arm. "It always hurts more when it rains, too." She sighed and closed her eyes. A few silent tears trickled down her face, escaping the nets of her eyelids. Toshiro blinked in surprise. Shika never cried. "I'm sorry. It's just that nobody understands me. And so I can't understand them. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." "I understand you." Toshiro said softly. "Well. maybe you do. Please. excuse me for a moment. I need to be alone," Shika mumbled as she dropped his hand and hurried out the door, leaving Toshiro to stare into the dark hallway.

Shika fled to the retreat of the burnt-out corpse of a tree. It always seemed to comfort her, having somewhere to hide, a place no one else found beautiful. She sat down at the base of it, letting the rain beat down upon her when it found a way through the gaps of the tree's skeleton-fingers. A few small blue flowers were growing next to where Shika was sitting. She picked one and twirled it around in her fingers. The feeling was vaguely familiar, and just as she realised what the memory was, the dark wave of the past came to rush over her.

She was floating in the dark sea of her memories. Huge waves rolled over her, and she was endlessly submerged in it, always trying to breath, but never succeeding. At last she managed to break free of its grip.

The darkness was still there, lurking in the back of her mind, just waiting for her guard to be let down, and to spring back up. Ghosts of the memories still flitted around her mind, filling every thought and word. Shika was overwhelmed by the grief. --I don't need to be here, do I?-- She fingered the small knife in her pocket. It had been there since she had survived the darkness of her past. Just in case. Shika knew its use now. A sharp flash of light reflected in her eye and the blade as she drew it across her wrist. The crimson life flowing from her body brought another wave of sorrow to flood her soul as her spirit faded into the darkness.