Into The Rain With You

I walked for what felt like an hour, letting the rain soak through my clothes, feeling the weight of the world lifting, if only a little.

I didn't know what I was running from—maybe it was the idea that I had to be this perfect version of myself, the one everyone saw. But walking in the rain, alone, felt like I was finally getting some space to just be.

By the time I got home, though, the weight had returned, as it always did.

I hung my jacket by the door, shaking off the excess water. My mom's voice called out from the kitchen. "Kai, is that you? Come help me set the table."

I sighed, pushing the thoughts of the rain aside. The house was warm, the kind of warmth that always made me feel like I had to fit in, like I had to perform again.

"Coming!" I called back, plastering the smile on my face. It was automatic by now. The second I stepped inside, I had to switch modes. I was the son. The perfect son, who always had something to smile about, something to share. The Kai Tanaka who everyone loved.

But as I walked into the kitchen, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was missing.

"How was school? Did you make everyone laugh today?" my mom asked, her voice filled with that proud tone she always used when she spoke about me. She always told everyone that her son was the funniest, the most charming. The one everyone loved.

I gave my usual chuckle. "Yeah, Mom, you know how it is. Same old stuff."

But inside, the smile felt like a lie. The usual banter, the usual routine—it all felt so… empty. Who was I really?

Dinner was the same as always: casual chatter, my parents asking about school, and me answering as if I were reading from a script. There was nothing wrong with it, but something felt so distant, so disconnected. I was here physically, but it was like I was miles away.

By the time I went to bed that night, I realized something. I was tired. Tired of pretending, tired of the performance. But more than anything, I was tired of feeling like I didn't even know who I was beneath the mask I wore for everyone else.