Introduction
This story is a motif based on my original song and lyrics, “The Rain Never Stops” (Ame wa Yamazu).
Rain is often uncomfortable and gloomy—something we wish would just end. However, I also believe it is a presence that gently washes away the emotions we want to forget and the feelings we cannot yet organize.
I wrote this as a way to depict the “heart after the rain” that music alone couldn’t fully capture. I hope you enjoy reading it while imagining the quiet sound of rainfall.
1. Blurred Outlines
When it rains continuously, the world loses its sharp edges.
On her way home from work, Amana walked across the wet asphalt, feeling as though her own “outline” was beginning to blur.
The streetlights bled into the water droplets, making the familiar path look like somewhere else entirely. In that hazy scenery, Amana always found herself overlapping shadows of the past.
It had been six months since the breakup. The pain she thought she had forgotten would suddenly swell on rainy days.
She let out a sigh and closed her eyes, watching it dissolve into the rain. That’s when the soft glow of a coffee shop named “Melty” caught her eye.
2. The Gentleman Peering at His Watch
Stepping inside to seek shelter, she found someone strangely out of place. A tuxedo and a top hat. A sharp gaze behind spectacles. And a habit of checking a high-end wristwatch every few minutes, as if measuring the very beating of a heart.
…Who is this person?
He possessed none of the “ordinariness” one expects from a cafe patron. Amana tried to ignore him, but her eyes were drawn to him nonetheless. Eventually, emboldened by a sip of coffee, she spoke up.
“Excuse me… are you worried about the time?”
The man turned slowly toward her, raising an eyebrow with an expression that was slightly bothered, yet somehow intrigued.
“Yes. Time is always a concern,” he said. “Even if you pretend to forget it, it has a way of chasing you down on its own.”
It was a philosophical turn of phrase, one that felt perfectly suited to the damp night air. Without thinking, Amana replied, “…Rainy days feel like they wash away the things you want to forget.”
The moment she said it, the words pierced her own chest. The man narrowed his eyes, glanced briefly at his watch again, and muttered:
“Hmm… things you want to forget, you say? Rain does seem to have a quality that dissolves things. However, it does not erase what floats to the surface after the dissolving is done.”
His way of speaking was a bit tedious, yet it reached Amana’s heart with a quiet resonance. He traced the rim of his cup with a finger and took a small breath. The gesture was neurotically precise, yet strangely charming.
“Things you want to forget…” he repeated slowly. “People often say that, but in truth, a memory you want to forget usually exists as a pair with a memory you don’t want to forget. Like two sides of a coin.”
“Two sides of a coin…?”
“Yes. For example…”
The man looked at his watch. The second hand moved one notch in total silence.
“They say rain makes one gloomy. But it is because of the rain that the blue of a sunny day stands out so vividly. In the same way, the fact that there is something you want to forget is proof that there is something behind it you wish to hold onto.”
A bit of a difficult man, Amana thought. And yet—
“But, there’s nothing I want to hold onto…”
She started to say it, but the words caught in her throat. The man leaned in slightly, as if measuring the distance between them.
“You said it yourself just now. That the rain washes away what you want to forget. If that’s the case, then you are certainly carrying something.”
Struck by his insight, Amana instinctively looked away. “That’s… an exaggeration.”
“It is no exaggeration,” the man laughed softly. Even his laugh felt vintage. “People who enter a coffee shop alone on a rainy day are usually carrying something. I’ve seen people like that for years.”
“For years?”
The man didn’t answer. Instead, he lifted his cup. Amana sensed intuitively that he wasn’t “dodging the question,” but rather “choosing not to tell.” To fill the silence, the rain pitter-pattered outside.
The sound of the rain fell between them like a transparent veil, making the shop feel even quieter. Amana felt the “indescribable humidity” deep in her chest about to overflow.
“…I’ve felt so empty lately,” she admitted. “It hurts, even though there’s nothing there. Like my heart has too much humidity… it just won’t dry.”
The man narrowed his eyes, as if observing every individual raindrop reflected there.
“Humidity isn’t a bad thing. Having humidity is proof that your heart is still breathing. If it dried up completely, you wouldn’t feel anything at all.”
Those words rippled through her chest like a stone dropped in a quiet pond. Amana felt the weight lodged deep inside her grow just a little lighter.
The man looked at his watch again, his brow furrowing slightly.
“…Why do you check your watch so often?”
Emboldened to ask, the man whispered with a silence that matched the sound of a cup being set down. “I am waiting for someone.”
“Someone?”
“Yes. Someone I can only meet in the rain.”
Another glance at the watch. His eyes looked very far away. Amana could say nothing; she simply watched his profile.
The man stood up slowly, the shadow of his top hat falling over her. “You will meet it too, someday. The thing you truly need, after you’ve been washed by the rain. That’s just how it works.”
With a short tip of his hat, the man stepped out into the rain without an umbrella. The moment the door closed, the rain outside sounded just a little softer.
Amana placed a hand on her chest. In that damp place deep inside, a faint warmth had returned.
The rain doesn’t stop. But she felt as though, somewhere, a break in the clouds was beginning to form.
3. Rain Falling on the Heart
Leaving the coffee shop, Amana began to walk alone. She noticed the raindrops were larger now. The air had chilled, and her white breath drifted like a soft mist inside the curve of her umbrella.
“You will meet it too, someday. The thing you truly need, after you’ve been washed by the rain. That’s just how it works.”
Those words remained in her head, mingling with the rhythm of the falling water. Something flickered deep in her heart.
The thing I truly need.
Did she even possess such a thing? The more she searched for an answer, the more the void—like a transparent hole—seemed to expand within her.
She stopped at a traffic light and tightened her grip on the umbrella. Then, slowly and deliberately, she closed it.
With a dry thwack, the cold raindrops immediately began to pelt her shoulders all at once.
“…So cold,” she whispered, but even her voice was swallowed by the downpour.
Her clothes grew heavy in an instant. Strands of hair stuck to her cheeks, and trails of water slid down her neck, slipping all the way down her back. It was uncomfortable. It was miserable.
And yet—
For some reason, her breathing became just a little, tiny bit easier.
It wasn’t logical. It just felt as though the emotions hardened at the very bottom of her heart were slowly dissolving, melting away along with the raindrops.
She looked up at the smoky white sky. The clouds were still thick, with no sign of clearing. But beyond them—colors began to bleed faintly.
An imaginary rainbow shimmered, thin and ghostly, in the damp depths of her heart.
Nothing spanned the actual sky. But the premonition that “one day, I will surely see it” was certainly, undeniably there.
雨ハ止マズ
窓の向こうに 濡れた街灯
滲む光は 昨日の影を引きずって
手を伸ばしても 届かぬ声
風に消えていく 約束のように
足跡は 雨に流され
行き場をなくしても
マダ 雨ハ止マズ 心ハ遠ク
瞼ノ奥ニ 静カナ波紋
マダ 霧ハ晴レズ 心ハ脆ク
硝子細工ノヨウニ 崩レ去ッタ
濡れた空気は 頬に残して
まだ乾かぬ 言葉の湿度
時計の針は 淡々と進み
忘れられぬものを やさしく溶かす
指先でなぞる 昨日のかけら
まだ胸の奥 雨は響くが
流れてゆく 雲の隙間に
微かな光を探す
マダ 雨ハ止マズ 心ヲ揺ラス
言葉ニデキナイ 祈リヲ抱キ
マダ 雲ハ消エズ 心ヲ閉ザス
独リデコノママ 夢マデ泳ゴウ
頭の中を占めている
空虚は雨で満たされていく
傘を叩く音が耳を突き
私は今より孤独になった
雨ハ止マズ
ソレデモイツカ
空ニ虹ハカカルダロウ
マダ 雨ハ止マズ 心ヲ揺ラス
言葉ニデキナイ 祈リヲ投ゲテ
マダ 虹ハ見エズ 心ヲ照ラス
独リデモイイヨ 明日 晴レル…
Ame-wa-Yamazu (The Rain Never Stops)
Beyond the window, soaked streetlights glow
Their blurred reflections dragging yesterday behind
I reach out, but your voice won’t land
Like promises dissolved into the wind
Footsteps fade into the rain
Even when there’s nowhere left to go
Still, the rain won’t stop — my heart drifts far
Quiet ripples behind closed eyes
Still, the fog won’t lift — my heart so fragile
Shattered like delicate glass
The damp air lingers on my skin
Words still heavy, soaked in time
The clock hands move without a sound
Softly melting what I can’t forget
Tracing fragments of yesterday with my fingers
Deep in my chest, the rain still echoes
But through the drifting clouds
I search for a faint light
Still, the rain won’t stop — shaking my heart
Holding prayers I can’t put into words
Still, the clouds remain — my heart shut tight
I’ll swim on alone, all the way into my dreams
The emptiness filling my mind
Is slowly flooded by the rain
The sound of drops striking my umbrella
Leaves me lonelier than I was before
The rain won’t stop
But someday
A rainbow will cross the sky
Still, the rain won’t stop — shaking my heart
Casting prayers I can’t give shape to
I can’t see the rainbow yet — but it lights my way
It’s okay to be alone — tomorrow will be clear
Bluepiece Lab. — “Ame-wa-Yamazu” Lyrics
🎥 Watch the Short MV
🎧 Listen to the Full Song
I will continue to write stories inspired by music. Stay tuned! 😊
