When you've lived in Tokyo long enough, you start to realize something about the rain here—it shows up out of nowhere and disappears just as suddenly. It's a bit like that moody girlfriend who becomes melancholic every time she sees her relatives.
That's why convenience stores all over the city stock cheap, clear plastic umbrellas. They're lightweight, disposable, and—most importantly—transparent. Being able to see where you're going minimizes collisions and splash fights on crowded sidewalks. It's a small but telling glimpse into the city's quiet rules of social courtesy.
Rainy streets were filled with umbrella-toting pedestrians, the downpour stretching like a shimmering curtain between steel buildings and glassy road signs.
Sakura Ayane loved nothing more than curling up in bed during a rainstorm, listening to the rhythmic patter against the windows. It calmed her body and soul.
Unfortunately, her apron-wearing mom always showed up to ruin it, yanking her out of bed with the usual lecture about developing self-discipline.
At the breakfast table, her sleepy-eyed dad in pajamas exchanged a groggy look with his equally sleepy daughter. They both stifled yawns and bit mechanically into their bread and eggs.
Only the parrot seemed lively, chirping and bobbing its head like it was ready to give a full performance—but it was still far from belting out Liszt's *La Campanella*.
And so, this cozy little trio began another day.
Dad lazily switched on the TV and tuned into his usual morning news show. When the familiar long-haired, elegant anchorwoman appeared on-screen, his mood visibly lifted—though he pretended to be deeply engrossed in learning about current affairs.
The anchor smiled flawlessly as she reported strange and silly headlines from across the country:
— A wild boar escaped from the zoo but was successfully tranquilized and caught.
— A burglar broke into a home, not knowing the resident was a professional judo athlete. He's now recovering in the hospital.
— A man discovered his blind date was 20 years older than advertised and demanded compensation from the matchmaking agency—no dice.
— A beautiful woman conned thirteen men into marriage. One of the victims' friends, a professional host, used himself as bait and managed to expose her. She's now behind bars.
— Late at night, someone reported a murder, only for the police to find a lonely otaku disposing of a punctured blow-up doll.
— Lightning struck a rural septic tank, causing local chaos. The smell? Indescribable.
…After this string of absurd news, the screen cut to footage near the Budokan arena.
"It's the annual entrance ceremony for the University of Tokyo. Let's see the future of the nation's best and brightest."
The prestigious university held its new student ceremony every year at Budokan. Top minds from around the country gathered there—discussing national policy, the economy, the future of civilization—with an air of cultivated brilliance.
Several TV crews stood outside, interviewing students as they left the building.
"Hello! What are your dreams for the future?" a reporter asked one student.
"I want to work in aerospace. Humanity's next great leap is venturing into space. The petty squabbles on this tiny planet mean nothing compared to the vastness of the cosmos. I'll dedicate my life to reaching the stars!" The boy's cheeks were flushed with passion. An idealist through and through.
Next student.
"What's your plan for campus life?"
"I'm going to spend every second studying criminal law, contemplating justice and morality. I want to meet likeminded people and become a human rights lawyer—to cast light into every dark corner, to help good people live without fear." The tall, thin student spoke with unwavering conviction, eyes focused on the horizon.
Third student.
"Who would you most like to thank for receiving your acceptance letter?"
"My family, for trusting and supporting me. And Ayako, my childhood friend back home. She waited for me late into the night at our tutoring center. She hugged me when I doubted myself. I'll study hard, work harder, and one day, I'll marry her. That's a promise I'll keep for life." The country boy looked bashful but resolute.
"Wow, these kids really are amazing," Dad said with a sigh of admiration.
Just then, another student passed by in a modest coat and checkered scarf, umbrella in hand, fringe falling naturally across his forehead.
"Excuse me, student! Mind if we ask you a few questions?" The reporter caught up with him.
"Sure," the student replied with a surprised smile.
As his face filled the frame, Sakura Ayane's eyes went wide. She nearly choked on her toast.
"We're from Tokyo TV…" the reporter began.
"I figured, the moment I saw that ridiculous banana mascot on your mic." The student nodded.
"Well then! You just made it through the rigorous Todai entrance exam and witnessed the dean's passionate opening speech. How are you feeling?"
"Not great, honestly. I assumed it wouldn't rain, so I didn't bring my folding umbrella. Had to buy a new one. Waste of money." He sighed.
"Uh… and what did you think of the speech?"
"He mentioned the gender imbalance at Todai—too few women. So I'd like to take this chance to publicly call for greater respect and equality for women."
"Right… and what are your goals? Any grand ambitions for the future?"
"None." He answered immediately.
"Er… surely you studied hard to get into Todai? Any prep tips?"
"The *History of Human Civilization* book series is so thick, I think it could double as a self-defense weapon."
"…What are your expectations for campus life?"
"Not getting expelled."
"Any short-term goals?" the reporter pressed, desperate now.
"I really want beef bowl for dinner. It's a big day, after all. Gotta treat myself." The student scratched his head, sheepishly.
The broadcast cut back to the studio. The anchorwoman smiled brightly.
"Unshakable resolve and dreams that never die! These passionate young students will one day carry the hopes of their families and the nation. That concludes our live report…"
Sakura Ayane was still coughing. She grabbed a tissue to wipe up spilled milk and bread crumbs from the table.
"You don't need to inhale your food, y'know," Dad said, bewildered.
"It's nothing. Just remembered something weird, that's all…" the girl muttered.