Raindrops in Tokyo The soft patter of rain tapped gently on the windows of Hiroki's apartment,
High above the narrow streets of an old Tokyo neighbourhood.
It was late,
Just past midnight,
But the city had a quiet pulse,
A rhythm that never quite stopped.
The air was cool,
The lights soft,
And the streets were bathed in a silvery sheen from the gentle rain,
With the city's neon lights reflecting in the puddles.
Hiroki slipped on his coat,
Pulled up the stepped out into the night.
There was something comforting about walking in the rain,
Especially in this part of Tokyo,
Where time seemed to slow and the modern city gently gave way to tradition.
The quiet sound of his footsteps echoed in the alleyways,
Blending with the sounds of the city's metro trains and gentle traffic.
Blues,
Pinks and soft reds shimmered in the puddles along the stone paved streets,
And paper lanterns swung gently under the eaves of low wooden buildings.
The rain was soft and steady,
Soaking the city in a tranquil stillness.
Hiroki turned a corner and found himself in a narrow street filled with traditional eateries.
From within came the quiet clink of dishes,
The low murmur of voices,
And the delicate aroma of grilled fish and miso.
He paused for a moment to watch an elderly man in a white apron gently preparing food behind a steamy window.
The chef moved slowly,
Methodically,
Like a dancer lost in an old routine.
A single customer sat at the counter,
Sipping something warm from a ceramic cup.
Further down,
The soft sounds of wind chimes drifted from the eaves of a traditional sweet shop,
And a small black cat curled up on a dry mat napping just inside the entrance.
The rain continued to fall gently,
But Hiroki didn't mind.
His hood kept him warm,
And the rhythm of the raindrops was like a lullaby over the city.
As he walked,
He noticed a tiny Shinto shrine tucked between two apartment buildings,
Almost hidden from sight.
He approached the shrine,
Bowing his head slightly as he entered.
The gravel crunched underfoot,
And the sound of the city faded away.
Rain dripped gently from the pine trees surrounding the shrine,
And a single lantern glowed beneath the eaves of the shrine house.
He stood there for a moment,
And felt a stillness settle deep into his chest.
He made a quiet wish,
Not for anything grand,
But simply for more nights like this.
Calm,
Slow,
And peaceful.
Back on the street,
He took a longer route home,
Letting the quiet guide him.
The rain had slightly thinned,
More of a mist now.
He passed his favourite ramen shop,
Where someone inside was laughing heartily,
The sound muffled but full of warmth.
Hiroki reached his apartment,
Slipped off his shoes,
And hung his damp coat by the door.
The warmth inside greeted him like an old friend.
He lit a few candles,
And filled his bath with hot water.
He slipped in slowly,
The heat wrapping around his body like a blanket.
Outside the window,
The rain whispered on.
Eyes closed,
Letting the calm of the city sink into his bones.
When he finished,
He wrapped himself in a thick robe,
Made a warm cup of green tea,
And stood by the window.
Below,
The city lights shimmered through the misty rain.
He paused in deep thought,
And looked on at the cityscape.
And finally,
He climbed into bed,
The covers cool and soft.
He listened to the rain,
His heartbeat steady,
His breath slowed,
And Hiroki fell into a deep sleep.
