Cold rain, and hot tears.
The one fell from dark clouds looming above the skyline; thunder rumbled in the distance, its flash of lightning lost in the haze of the city's aging sodium streetlamps. The council was pushing to have them replaced with modern LED lighting, but it'd turned into a battle over funding and taxation with local business interests.
The other rolled down the cheek of a small figure running pell-mell through the streets below. In a tank top, gym shorts, and flip-flops, the child was hardly dressed for the weather; but part of Kim didn't really mind. The rain hid the fact that he was crying, and next to the hot anger prickling up from the base of his neck to the tips of his ears, he was sure he hardly even felt the cold.
His flip-flops, however, had seen better days, and were never that sturdy to begin with. As he rounded a corner - not because he knew where he was going, or cared, but because the street ended and he'dve run into a wall otherwise - the hard rubber thong on his right tore through the worn foam-rubber, just as he was pushing off into his next stride. He lost his balance, it sailed off behind him, and he tumbled and rolled wetly across the pavement.
He lay there for a moment, embarrassment mingling with his anger, but even in this deserted part of the city it wasn't a good idea to lie in the middle of the street. Kim picked himself up, hunted around for his flip-flop, and shivered mightily, the cold and damp wracking his small frame in spite of his bravado. He glanced at the buildings around him; maybe he could find somewhere to dry off, while he tried to fix his flip-flop. But the shops were all shuttered, and-
No, wait. Between two rows of storefronts was a tiny building that stood by itself on an equally tiny lot. It felt out-of-place in the dim grey city, almost seeming to exude warmth and color into the space around it; but he didn't really think much about that, because more importantly, the door was ajar.
Kim peeked cautiously in, wondering what kind of place it was, and whether he'd get in trouble for coming inside, but it seemed abandoned. He slipped through the gap, absent-mindedly shutting the door behind him.
It was a single room, decorated so sparsely that it should've felt Spartan; yet it was somehow inviting. The interior of the room had a raised wooden platform around the perimeter of a grassy patch of lawn; the glass ceiling above would've let the sun in to warm it, but the clouds still hung darkly overhead, and the rain clattered loudly against it. At the very center was a statue of some lady he didn't recognize.
There was a full-length mirror in the entryway, for some reason. He felt a little uneasy, looking into a mirror in a place like...whatever this was, but the only thing that looked back at him was the shrimpy Vietnamese kid he was used to seeing, scuffed-up and bedraggled, his hair a mess. With a shake of his head, he turned away, went to the platform, and sat down.
Stupid, stupid...! He felt the tears coming back to his eyes as he fumbled with the flip-flop. Stupid Jesse. Stupid him. Stupid fight! It'd never been like this before; they'd had their squabbles, as young boys do, but they'd always made up right away. Why was it different now...?
He sighed; he knew why. It was different because he couldn't let go of it.
They'd been best friends for as long as he could remember. They liked the same cartoons, played the same video games; they bonded over the things they'd discovered digging through Kim's dad's record collection and Jesse's dad's stash of comic-strip anthologies. They even rivaled each other on the playground, despite their obvious physical differences; Jesse might've been the bigger of the two, but Kim was nimbler.
And Jesse'd been there for him in more than just the good times, too. He'd stood up for Kim when other boys made fun of his name, or mocked him for being short. He'd even hit a kid once, for using a racial slur. He'd helped the smaller boy discover the fighter within, and inspired him to stand up for himself. So why...why...?
It'd all gone wrong at the start of sixth grade. He'd thought that only older kids cared about this stuff, and they weren't even twelve yet; but Jesse had, well, discovered girls.
The whole semester it'd been like this. It wasn't that he'd started being mean, or even ignoring him, but his mind was always elsewhere. All he wanted to do was figure out how to get their attention, or talk about whoever his latest stupid crush was! There was never any time for just them; there just wasn't room in his life for their friendship anymore.
Kim clenched his fist and gritted his teeth, trying to stop the tears. The girls Jesse liked didn't even like any of the things he did! How could it be any fun being friends with them? Why was he so fixated on them!? He didn't get it; and even Jesse seemed confused at himself.
He futzed with the rubber thong, but it was no use; it'd torn clean through the battered foam. Some things you just couldn't fix...
It'd all come to a head in a big yelling match like they'd never had before; but worse than that...and to his own shame...Kim had actually hit him, unprovoked. And worst of all, he hadn't hit back. He hadn't even said anything. He'd just...walked away.
With a sigh, he got up, slipping the flip-flop back onto his foot and trying to grab the thong between his toes. It'd be slow going, trying to walk like this, but it was better than going barefoot on the city streets.
Kim glanced back at the statue in the center of the room. He still had no idea who it was supposed to be, but he noticed for the first time that there was a tray at the feet of the statue. Was that for some kind of donation thing? He guessed maybe it was only fair if he left something as a thank-you for whoever left this place open for him to dry off, but heck, what did he even have?
He rifled through his pockets - and froze when he felt it. Slowly, he withdrew his hand and opened his fist. An agate - something Jesse had given him, years ago. It was broken in half; the stone was a rich, warm brown, prettily banded with lighter shades, and there was a hollow cavity at the center, lined with delicate crystals. He'd carried it with him ever since, as a token of their friendship.
Guess I don't need this anymore, he told himself, crouching down by the tray; but his lip quivered, and he felt more like...like he didn't have the right to keep it. He knelt, and set it down...
...and suddenly an indescribable warmth filled him. Not the hot, prickling anger from earlier, but a gentle, comforting glow that began deep in his belly and radiated out to fill the rest of him. It was as much an emotional sensation as a physical one; he felt his inner turmoil fading away, replaced with the kind of feeling he got when...when his mom would hug him and tell him that things will get better.
It faded almost as soon as it'd come on, and he rose, confused but feeling okay, somehow. The clouds had ceased their pounding on the roof, and the slightest rays of sunlight were just beginning to peek through them. That fresh just-after-the-rain smell filtered in from the doorway.
Kim was surprised at how quickly he'd dried off, but not enough to wonder at it. He didn't glance back at the tray, where the agate no longer sat. He stepped back up onto the platform, gripping the thong of his flip-flop between his toes and not yet realizing that it was mended. And he glanced back at the mirror as he left, but if the features of his face were just a little softer and finer, it escaped his notice.