It kept raining.

The bus stop, covered in Plexiglas to prevent it from vandalism, distorted the world outside with dripping water.  The roof above sounded like rice was falling instead of rain, and the door remained shut. For a good reason; it led directly out to the street, which was flooded. This was why the bus was late, most likely. Which was why Garin was about to lose her mind.

Thirty minutes, trapped in a glass prison. The white usul had switched from the bench, to the wall, to the ground at least fifteen times. She had her hand on the handle at one point in time, to try and make a run for it, but then saw a cat rush by in the water and she jumped back. The current would take her, for sure.  
Besides, her dripping hair, clothes, and self in general was from when she tried earlier, which was a sprinkle compared to this.

The pay-phone was out, too. She kept trying to get it to work, mentally chiding herself for picking this day to take the bus, when suddenly a tsunami hit her feet as the entire floor flooded momentarily. The door had been opened.
“Hey!” Garin immiedently jumped onto the bench, collapsing across it. “Shut the door, idiot! I’ve been trying to keep that thing closed for almost an hour!”

The figure, whom all she could see of was a bright pink hooded jacket with black skirt and also pink leggings, paused. Slowly, she turned around, and Garin found herself looking in a mirror, the only differences being the clothes, non-streaked hair, and the bright red eyes, which were staring in shock and wonder. This, however, didn’t last for long as they slowly shifted to undeniable, unexplainable, barely-contained joy.

“Garin! Oh my gosh, GarrrIIIIIIIIN!” The mirror squealed, throwing the shopping bag she was carrying on the floor and jumping for a hug. Garin managed to move just in time, letting out a “Oh, CRAP” before jumping over the back of the bench and completely missing the floor with her feet, instead landing on her behind. Still, it was enough to get away from her…
or not.

The figure gasped, leaning over the back of the bench. “Oh, Garin, are you okay?” She squealed, the noise magnified times a hundred in the small area.
“No, I’m not, Ayame.” Garin muttered through her teeth, staring at the ceiling in frustration at the fact she didn’t just knock herself out for the experience she was about to endure.
“Ooooh, no! Did you hurt your tail-end? I admit, it’ll be a bit awkward going to the emergency room for a broken tush, but I’ll help you get the-“
“My… butt is fine, Ayame.” Garin interrupted, seriously not wanting to start this subject.
“Oh.” The mirror image looked momentarily relieved. “Then what’s the matter?”
“You. In a small enclosed area. With me.”

“Oh, I know!” Ayame gushed, ignoring, or unaware of, Garin’s tone of voice, flipping her hood back. “There I was, lost in the rain, really tired from going against the current, I thought it would get me, when I see this place! A shelter, finally! Not only that, you’re here!”

She was off the bench in an instant, grabbing Garin’s arm and pulling her up. “You’re my haven in the storm, Garin!”
“and you’re my hel-“ Garin began to mutter, but Ayame continued talking.

“Garin, this is going to be so much fun!” She squealed, pushing Garin onto the bench with force the other usul couldn’t believe. “It could be like a sleepover!”
“In a glass box on the side of a flooded street?”
“Well, maybe not EXACTLY like one, but…Oooh!” Ayame suddenly squealed, digging through her shopping bag.

“I was out getting some stuff for my friend’s party, it’s this huge sleepover, are you coming? Oh, you don’t know her, sorry…anyway, I was getting her some make-up and nail polish and a hairbrush, the whole nine yards, but I can always get her more! You can let me do your hair, and your nails, and your face, and maybe pep up your outfit just a little with some jewelry and scarves and stuff, I keep some accessories in my purse-“ Immiedently she was digging through that, still not taking a breath.
“-and we can talk about girl stuff! Like, about our problems and our boyfriends and- Oh wait I guess you don’t have one, do you? I’m so sorry, I know you’re probably touchy about that subject, I can talk about my boyfriend and you can talk about some cute guys in the guild, like that one guy who belongs to-“

“What the heck is wrong with you!?”

Ayame stopped dead, pausing and looking up at Garin. Garin herself was seething on the seat angrily, looking annoyed beyond belief. She was.
Ayame’s eyebrows turned up, and she looked hurt.
“Well, I mean, I guess he’s kind of cute then…”
“Not that, you idiot!” Garin snapped, standing up and beginning to rant, pointing an accusing finger that was acting as the faucet for this sudden pour of irritancy. “I mean, seriously! Where in the world could you of come from, where in the universe, that you could be so freaking positive at a time like this?! Where in the heck did you come from, what kind of family would teach you like this?! Because let me tell you, I wouldn’t want to meet any of THOSE idiots!”

Ayame, for once, was silent.

Garin stood there, still feeling angry, but waning. A year’s worth of irritancy finally got it’s gateway out, and even though it was down to a trickle, it was there.
“Well?” She demanded, sitting down huffily.

“I…didn’t grow up with a family.” Ayame said softly, playing with the handles of her shopping bag. “I grew up in…in an orphanage…”

Oh, crap.

Garin tried to remain irritated, but guilt was nibbling at the edges. She remained silent, trying to maintain with her angry pose, but the rush had finally run dry. Ayame took her silence as a sign of disgust and hurried on.

“It wasn’t a bad orphanage. No, not at all. I had Karen, and the little kids, and the flowers. That’s where I got my name from, the irises. It was just…I used to lie awake at night, wondering what it would be like...to grow up with a mother who wanted me. I mean, I can never find out if my mother wanted me or not…she might’ve died…but wouldn’t my dad of taken me?” Ayame whispered the last bits, almost to herself.
“And…I just learned to be positive. Look on the green side of the grass…” She smiled a genuine one. “There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s just the way I was…raised, I guess you could say.”

Guilt had eaten its way through Garin like a worm, and it felt like it, but she said nothing. Instead, she brought her knees up to her chin, absorbing the information. Ayame continued, much more pleasant and upbeat.
“Then Mom adopted me, and I found my family, and Karen again. And all is right with the world!” She giggled. “Just like Mary adopted you, from whatever orphanage you came from. Only, I guess you aren’t as happy as I am…”

“Orphanage?” Garin said distantly, rolling Ayame’s words over in her head like waves.
“Yeah, orphanage. Which one did you go to, anyway? I overheard some of the teachers talking about other orphanages now and again.” Ayame chirped, her happiness returned like the sun after an eclipse. She dug through her purse and finally came out, triumphant, with a brush, which she started to drag through her hair.

“I was never in an orphanage.” Garin said without meaning to. Immiedently, she realized the possible consequences of this, and started to take it back, but Ayame had already paused in her hair brushing.
“Wait, then where’d you come from?”
“Nowhere.”
“Yes you did! Tell me tell me tellll meeee!” Ayame begged, shaking her friend’s arm, repeating herself over and over again.
Garin’s face grew into a grimace, and she pulled her arm away. “Okay, fine, I came from somewhere! There!”
“Where?”
“Somewhere.”
“I know that!”
“and That’s all you’re gonna know.”

Ayame opened her mouth to start again, and Garin held her arms up in exasperated defeat. “Fine! My parents. I lived with my parents for a while.”

Ayame gasped like it was a deep, unknown secret. “You have parents?”
“Yes, you idi-“
“I mean, you KNEW them? What were they like?” Ayame asked eagerly.

Garin sighed, closing her eyes and laying across the bench, memories flooding her mind. She really didn’t want to open this can of worms, but Ayame would never let her be if she didn’t.
“My mother…she was nice. She…protected me as a kid. She taught me a lot of things, and…well, was there for me.”

Ayame’s eyes sparkled. “What did she look like?”
“Me, or you, really, with blond hair.”

Ayame took a moment to consider this. “Wow…what about your dad?”

Garin’s expression hardened into one of absolute hate. “…Remember how I said my mother protected me?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“He was what she protected me from.”
“Oh. What did he look like?”
“Anybody else. Only he had these piercing, deep eyes and this mess of black hair.”

Ayame soaked this in for a second, and there was no sound except for the pounding of rain on the roof. Finally, she interrupted the silence. “Do you know what happened to them?”

Ghosts, haunting memories, flew by Garin’s eyes. She lied. “No.”

“Wow…” breathed Ayame. “How did you end up with Mary, then?”
“An accident, I ended up…at the same place as her.” Garin said carefully, really not wanting to explain that she was washed up on a beach.
“Wow, Garin, I can’t believe what a lucky life you had!” exclaimed Ayame. Garin’s head snapped up.
“What?”

“Yeah, I mean, your mom sounds awesome!” Ayame laughed. “She sounds like somebody I would want to meet.”
“What about my father?”
Ayame shrugged. “Nobody’s perfect, same goes for their life.”

Garin shook her head, trying to adjust to the whole ‘lucky’ idea. “I can’t believe you think I’m lucky to of ended up here…”

“Why, what’s wrong with here?” Ayame asked enthusiastically. “Sounds better than there.”
“I…guess you’re right…”
“Hey, y’know what I just thought of? Since you don’t know what happened to your parents, what if I’m really your sister?!” Ayame gasped with revelation.

Garin snorted. “Hope not, and doubt it. I would’ve figured it out.”
“Oh...I guess you’re right. I can hope, though!”

Garin looked at Ayame through new eyes. She had been through so much, and was still positive and optimistic. Maybe she was right, and Garin was just…

Suddenly, however, Garin’s thought was interrupted with the sound of a car pulling up outside. They both stopped, Ayame mid-brush, and Garin mid-word, as the door swung open and another flash flood hit the floor.

A tall, dark figure stood in the doorway, slamming the door behind him with a firm kick of his splattered jeans. He lowered his hood, and Garin quickly regonized him; Fang, Ayame’s older ‘brother’. Flicking wet hair out of his face in a way that, if he had any, would make an entire pack of fan girls’ swoon, He blinked around the glass box and saw Ayame sitting there, looking excited.

“Fang! Did Mom send you?” She asked happily, grabbing her bags again. Fang relaxed, eyes calming slightly, and nodded. Ayame smiled wider. “I knew you’d be able to figure out this was the only place between the mall and home I could take shelter!”

“Come on.” Fang gestured outside, towards his car. Ayame looked back at Garin. Messages flashed in her eyes, and Ayame nodded. None of what passed in here would be repeated.
“Can Garin come, too?”

Before Fang could refuse, the bus pulled up in front of the building, and Garin jumped up.
“I’ll be fine, please, just get away from me.” She muttered, slipping back into her regular self.

Still, even as she climbed the bus steps, and took a seat, watching out the streaming window as Fang said something about dripping in the car and they both got in, Garin felt something like a string, tying her to Ayame. Not really new, but stronger all of the sudden.

The other usul waved up at her from the passenger seat of Fang’s car, Fang turning on the ignition.

And surprisingly, even if it was much less enthusiastic, Garin felt a wave of her own from her hand.