"It's raining cats and dogs." 

You sighed and moved your hand towards her, "Please hold on to this."

"Only since you asked so nicely," she said with a smile and a small pout. She reached out and held onto your umbrella as you got out your pocket notebook, as well as your pen. You wrote. 

Raining cats and dogs - raining harshly? 

She never told you the meanings of her phrases but it was better that way. Context clues allowed for deduction towards the meaning. It allowed for a more distinct writing style. 

"Only for you," dripping with fondness. It being fake, of course.

"That's sweet," it was, only because if it were any other person but her you wouldn't have asked it as politely. It wouldn't have even been a question. 

She stared into the rain that fell on the both of you, it being thwarted by the umbrella. 

"What's on your mind?" a simple question asked by you. 

 "Nothing really, jus' cold is all." Cold. It was moderately cold but nothing you would complain about. With the clothes she wore, you expected her to be at least warm enough. Her being cold would have to do with her moving from a warm state that didn't get rain as much. 

A nice, soft cotton sweater that looked as if it were choking her when combined with her skirt, yet warmth was hard to achieve. Her clothes compared to others her age was unusual. It always looked like she was suffocating under them. When asked she laughed and assured you she was fine. 

"Why do you wear you clothes like that?" 

Mari looked towards you, "Hmm? It's my style I guess... Or maybe it's because... I don't know." Her finger touched her lips, voice soft, unsure. There was was troubled face exposed as her finger then moved away as she looked up, "It's just that I feel like I have the need to show that I'm skinny. That I have to justify myself for some reason." Her brows furrowed, "It makes no sense." She finished with a frown. 

Ah, yes. Her ever present need to justify and be accepted. Such a vulnerability that she exposed to you and it would be used against her. It was a thrilling thought to know how much she trusted you. 

You held her hand as you take back your umbrella, "You're petite, no one could argue with that, especially with how you put on your skirts," You have no doubt that she wouldn't feel bothered in the slightest by a corset. "It's undoubtedly a style that screams 'Marie Fischer'. 

"Mari, you don't have to prove yourself to anyone. No one would judge you on what body type you have. You have better things to worry about than that." 

 "Yeah...I just don't like the aesthetic of tight clothes, but I also don't like loose clothes either," she let out a soft chuckle as she moved her arms in front of her. She then lifted them above her head and stretched. 

"I dress the way I do because I have to keep up appearances. Not a single strand of my hair can be out of place. I can't have anyone think I'm less than perfect," you laced the last part with sarcasm. You really couldn't let anyone think of you as less than perfect, but you just wanted her to think of it as a joke. 

Her head slowly turned to look up at you as your head looked down on her. Those eyes were wide, but it wasn't with realization, it was with interest. Brown eyes that really saw into your being. Her pink lips were parted enough to expose sharp teeth. She looked like she was about to speak, but no words came out. 

You inhaled deeply to ground yourself. People walked past the two of you, the only two people standing still. A few more steps was all that was needed to reach the sidewalk in the search for a new destination. 

A chill was starting to creep up your spine. 

"How does a warm drink sound?" you asked her. 

Her lips closed slightly as she nodded but those eyes never lost their target, their fascination. A fuzzy feeling filled your stomach and you immediately felt disgusted and uncomfortable. It's been a while since anyone ever looked at you like that. It was still not particularly pleasant. 

As a person you never wanted to say you ran away from anything, yet in spite of that, a gaze made you crumble. A quick turn away from her to escape, and a brisk, fast pace to get away. "If you don't hurry up you'll get drenched," you said over your shoulder when footsteps didn't accompany yours. 

There were no words that could express how it felt when she scrambled over to you to get under you umbrella. How it felt when her footsteps became in synch with yours. How when her small hand covered your larger one it left you unsettled. The feeling of her coming to you to find shelter unnervingly pleasant. 

Mari's soft hand was warm against yours, this caused more problems which you couldn't find the solution to. Her small hand barely compared to yours, her fingers shallowly intertwined with yours. This casual intimacy sickened you to the core and, if you didn't know any better, you'd say she had feelings for you. 

With her friends—Oshiro and Akihiko—there was an abundance of familiarity going on between the three of them. She had familiarized herself with you and grew comfortable to act so casually. It was good. 

"I'm leaving on a field trip. It's before our school term ends and I hate it," Mari said with faux anger as the both of you walked. She had a cute little pout.

"Duty calls and you only have yourself to blame for joining a club," you chided. Her grip became slightly tighter before relaxing. A small discomfort in your gut was pushed aside as you asked, "Would you like to go out before you leave?" This seemed to get the desired effect of making her forget, if only for a little. 

"Of course I'd like to go out with you," she smiled as if she saying a joke. She paused for a moment before she resumed less enthusiastically, "It wasn't really my intention to be part of a club." 

"So, when you finally graduate from the academy you won't continue your schooling?" the both of you knew this answer, this conversation was steering towards small talk. 

"Probably not, a simple life is really all I want. I just want to open a bakery or something."

It's peculiar how all Mari wanted was a simple life, yet she attended a prestigious academy used for cultivating talents. It was embarrassing for her to be wasting a golden opportunity like hers, but you couldn't help but admire her wanting simplicity. 

The only reason why she was brought into the academy was because of her being interested in the human mind. It would make her father proud. Her empathy has also made it easier for her to be scouted out. it was that empathy that made her understand others so well and understand their motives. If that didn't make you feel slightly bad, then you didn't know what would. Not that you find knowing how people feel as bad, but it would've been a burden for you. 

No, the reason why you didn't like her empathy was because she was more than perfectly suited to mirror your own emotions and interests with ease, a skill both useful and harmful.  

You don't like to entertain fantasies but you wondered what the world would be like if she declined the invitation to the academy. The world seemed to be much blander, less colorful. Her uniqueness wouldn't be as appreciated, the others didn't appreciate her as much as you did.

"Glad you haven't given up on your dreams. The world would end if you did. Mari? Being realistic? Absolute chaos," you said with utmost seriousness. 

She chuckled, "I would never give them up. They mean too much." Her body became wrapped around your arm, face buried, she whispered, "It's all I've got left." A part of you wondered if you were meant to hear the last part. Another part wondered how you got here, you blamed it on the rain, it always brings the mood down. It made everything grey and seem much more gloomy. 

Mari would call it pretty and beautiful. 

 "I wouldn't want you to give them up. It's refreshing to see someone striving for something so mundane," you looked down at her, "it's what I like most about you." How true the statement was should surprise you, yet it didn’t. You stopped, following her lead, with the cafe door to your right. The umbrella was no longer needed thanks to a small overhang. 

She had a blank look on her face that soon stretched into a smile. 

 "And I," she dragged out, "like your voice, it's very soothing," Mari nodded her head, leading you towards the cafe. Her voice was filled with conviction, that it was a fact, as she said, "You should think about doing audiobooks. I'd pay a pretty penny to hear you narrate some boring history books." Another phrase to write down later, your arm was still being held like it was precious. "It'd be my favorite pastime, I'd make fun of all the stupid stuff that happened and you would too—while reading, of course." The counter was getting closer, the line getting shorter, a smile getting wider, "It'd be fantastic!"

She was getting too caught up in her idea, eyes becoming glazed over. Mari would make a scene, while you couldn't help sighing fondly as you gently shushed her. A finger against her lips, stopping whatever nonsense that would spill out. A pretty blush painted itself on her cheeks, as if you held her head between you hands and glided your thumbs across the skin, leaving behind a mark. Who knew that your finger could burn so much at a slight touch. At least Mari had the conscience to look embarrassed, her head tilted downwards. 

Oh, how you wanted to grab her face and tilt it toward yours. It felt as if something was in your lungs. 

 "Next!" 

You carefully pried your arm out of her grip, and she took a step away from you. Maybe that was a mistake.

 "Next!" 

For once you should initiate contact. You couldn't help but notice how her hands wringed her skirt. 

 "Next!" 

It'd be easier to have her depend on you. Her gaze was on the floor. 

 "Next!" 

She would never suspect a thing, but her knowledge of you was intimate, in-depth. 

 "Next!" 

A hand wrapped around you once more as shame filled you when you realized that you weren't paying attention. 

Reaching the counter, the two of you gave your orders and Mari, being herself, decided to pay, as guilt would be at her side if you paid instead. After that, you found a table near the middle of the cafe next to a window. 

 "You'd do good as a public speaker, and it's not because you have a great voice to listen to," she brought up once more. "It'd bring us closer to what we want, no one could refute your logic," she looked proudly at you. "There would be no conflict and..." there would be conflict, it was unavoidable, "...your ideas would spread faster... We'd be unstoppable."  

She was endearingly idealistic. "There's no doubt people would know about our goals everywhere. There would be controversy, Mari. Only poor families would be sympathetic towards us," her expression crumbled just a bit, yet it was still determined, "families like the Oishiro's, Akihiko's, and especially the Murray's will try to denounce us and make us seem benighted." 

 "But-" she began.

 "Oshiro and Akihiko may be your friends and agree with us, however you haven't taken into account about how their families would take this," her lips formed a thin line. "Oshiro is a good example. How did he act when he first met you? He secretly despised you, didn't he?" Her mouth opened a fraction. "What about Bublitz?" 

"Violet was never a good person, that point is invalid," Mari uttered gloomily, dodging the other questions. 

 "How so?" 

 "She treats Byakuya, Yin, and everyone else like trash. Regardless of their family." If that was the case then your point was invalid. Just as Oishiro's previous behavior. He changed, but it did not excuse the treatment. 

"How do the other kids at your school treat you?" The Fischers were well known and respected, but they were never included in anything grand.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat and thinned her lips. She also wiped her nose, one nervous tick out of an abundance of others. Mari was aware of these as you were. It never ceased to amaze you how well she knew herself.

 "They don't treat me like anything, I do practically nothing. The worst thing that's happened was name calling and being pushed... down stairs." She wiped her nose again as her head tilted towards the table, breaking eye contact for a few seconds.

You tried not to tense up as you remembered a similar situation that you were once in. Not as the pushee but as the pusher. 

You contemplated how you could use this information. She was on the receiving end of some unimaginative bullying. If given the opportunity to torment Mari, you would bring up the information that you deduced from her behavior. 

She would react to bullying differently than you did, hers was not on par with yours. If anything, they became lazy. Either way Mari wouldn't be able to see an advantage to her bullying. In the end, she was a defenseless, scared girl that ran away from reality, yet was forced to face it. Forcing her to realize this would be normally, bring a pleasurable satisfaction. Somehow the thought now made your stomach churn in revulsion. You wonder if a sickness would come soon. 

 "Why did they decide to push you?" Her right hand started twirling a strand of hair while the left hand that she was using to support her head wiped her nose. Those pink lips thinning out over and over again as her depressingly normal eyes grew wide as she remembered. An empath if you've ever known one. 

 "They hated me. I don't know why, I've done nothing to them."

She stopped twirling her hair and her eyes closed, half lidded and glazed over. The urge to reach out and grasp her hand was all consuming, but you needed to hear what else she would say. There was more, and you knew it.

She gave a blank look, "They hated me." Then she frowned, "I don't know why though."

You gave into desire and reached out to clasp her hand, you ran your thumb over the ridges of her knuckles, her soft skin. Her expressions fascinated you, her voice even more, however, her emotions were incredibly complex. You wanted to dissect her and see how she worked.

You rested your chin on your left hand, "People hate change and anything new. People would rather stay with what they find most comfortable. If they see an opportunity to get rid of that change, then they will take it."

Her eyes kept staring into yours, this time you didn't run away from their gaze and instead accepted them, "Do you hate me?"

For someone who had a great understanding of other's emotions, she was still surprisingly dense. Now, here there was a simple answer for a stupid question, "No, of course not." She wanted you to care about her, to approve of her. That fear was rooted into her brain since childhood.  You gave in deeper and intertwined your fingers, "You're honestly the thickest person I've met if you even think I'd hate you."

Who knew that a simple connection of skin could burn so harshly? 

She looked at you with approval, a twinge of emotion constricted your heart. Her ever present blush turned deeper. Would it be wrong of you to hold her head? 

Your orders arrived at your table, her milk tea and your black coffee, a cheese danish and a slice of coffee pound cake. The rest of the meal went in silence, comfortable and relaxed. You didn't let go of her hand, and she made no motion to remove yours. You'd miss doing this when she left for her mission, it never occurred to you until now, how she was needed in your life. She was part of a routine now, she became essential for your person to function. Mari was like the air, when gone it's when one realizes how it's needed to survive. 

She was special to you. Mari was the fresh air that filled your lungs.

You wanted to kiss her. Breathe her in like the unique taste of air after and during a storm, breathe in her carbon dioxide. To hold her body close to yours and become so close that the space separating you two equaled none. With her so close against you, you think you could forget about all the problems in the world. You'd be content with the two of you together and have no one else to bother you both. 

It was these thoughts that brought to your attention to your feelings. It was these thoughts that made you let go of her hand. You imagined the slight look of disappointment in her eyes, just as you imagined most of her reactions. That her blush was a trick of the light, that she was sick from being in the rain. She didn't feel the same way, she loved everyone equally. This equality of hers that you desired from your peers turned into a horrible, twisted, cruel joke.

You avoided her gaze as you finished your coffee. She finished her tea and you left together out the door. You thought about cancelling your plans with her but, you were selfish, you wanted to steal her time away from her teammates, they had enough of it. She grabbed your hand and repeated your earlier motions. It hurt.

"Why are so nervous all of a sudden? Is everything alright?"

"It's pretty, isn't it? The rain." You don't know who or what you were talking about. 

"Wha-?"

"Mari," you looked down at her, "I have to go back to work. Thank you for your time, I enjoyed coming here today."

She smiled at you, there were so few times in your life when someone did it with love and affection. The rain pattered on the ground, giving a cute sound to listen to. You gave a small tentative smile. It felt forced for some reason. She wore a worried face, stolen straight from your heart. Fate was cruel like that. 

"Shinji-," she started, her soft sweet voice. It was easier to admit these things now. It was easier when you knew that she didn't feel the same. 

"I have work to do and you have a book to finish reading." 

You lead her back to the store and to her tiny, secluded spot where no one else could bother her but you. The silence was no longer comfortable, instead a heavy layer of worry took its place, offsetting the balance you two had. 

Maybe it was better this way.