Just like thunder

In any case, I apologize in advance, as this idea really came to me very spontaneously and I didn't want to grasp it longer than absolutely necessary, because otherwise, I had the feeling, otherwise the intensity would be lost.

Just like thunder

Once.
Twice.

He counted and counted, over and over again. What else did he have to do? The boy liked it when it thundered and lightning struck. He especially liked the thunder.
He wasn't like the other children - they would have run away in fear long ago.
They didn't like that, but he couldn't understand why. Lightning and thunder weren't terrifying, were they?

Three times.
Four times.

Sometimes he felt like thunder. It wasn't as bright as lightning, and yet one was more afraid of it. It didn't destroy anything unlike lightning, and yet people were more afraid of it. You didn't see him in contrast to the lightning bolt.
And nevertheless…
The thunder was terrifying.

Five times.
Six times.

Hedidn't destroy anything.
You hardly ever saw him, either on the streets or anywhere else.
And nevertheless…
Hewas terrifying.

He knew all too well how the other residents of Rukongai were talking about him. That they were afraid of him, of him and his behavior. Actually he wasn't as cold as everyone thought, or at least that's what he thought. Was it him in the end, wasn't it?
Or was it the color of his hair?
His way?
Or even its appearance?

Seven times.
Eight times.

He wasn't like thunder. The thunder wasn't a strange hair color or type. The thunder was just a thunder. Just followed the lightning bolt.
Hewas like ice, they said. Ice was cold, dead, and killed. The thunder didn't kill.

But if it were the thunder ... then you wouldn't see it, only hear it. Did he really want to be heard or seen? Or even both?Or nothing?
He didn't want to destroy, any more than he didn't want to kill. So why did you think it was like ice?

Nine times.
Ten times.

He could just as easily contradict them. It would be really easy, just aNo, that's not true!
But he didn't do that. He wouldn't be heard either, even if he wanted to.
Sometimes he wanted to be like thunder, sometimes even like ice, but he had never wanted to be lightning.

Eleven times.
Twelve times.

His gaze turned to the sky. The thunderstorm had passed, the lightning had disappeared and the thunder had not been heard for a long time.
It had dragged on for a long time this time. He was already looking forward to the next thunderstorm. Then he could count the thunder again. He secretly promised himself and Thunder that he would always be counted in the future.

He had kept his promise.
Until Momo showed up. And later Matsumoto.
Since then he had stopped counting the thunder.

FIN