Rain of September

A fan fiction written by Ryuko Ishida

EDIT (as of 31 Oct, 2007): I've corrected anything that needed to be corrected, and I've added the original Chinese lyrics for people who are Chinese literate. Also, I've posted a download link of the song on my profile for your listening pleasure. So go check it out!

Ryuko: Alright! My second 'Silver Kiss' fiction! Hooray for me (although I still need to finish my first one, which is going to take awhile)! Enjoy. Oh, and Happy New Year!

SUMMARY: Twenty-four hours. Simon is gone, forever, out of her life for twenty-four hours. Rain splattered that night; the darkness itself reminds Zoë of him. Will she ever forget about him?

DISCLAIMER: Uh. No. 'The Silver Kiss' doesn't belong to me. The song in italics is translated by me but the original Chinese song was performed by Jeff Chang (ah, beautiful voice).


He began to fade in front of her very eyes.

Spears of sunlight, sharp and fierce, cut through the crisp air of dawn; birds were singing unknown tunes, high-pitched and merry; the sky above, a smoke grey at first, was steadily touched by pink and purple fire; clouds, thin and wispy, floated as still wind waltzed.

Such calm conditions could not sooth her inner spirit – being torn at the sight of the boy with the most mysterious, darkest of liquid raven-hued irises disappeared second by second, molecule by molecule. Zoë dared not to let tears ran along her eye brims for fear to blur the perfect image – the shimmer that was Simon and his smile, a bright smile lighted up by the warmth of sunlight which he had feared for so long, too long to remember.

And now, he was finally free and he let her know that by the timid smile that hung on his young face.

"Simon," it was almost inaudible; Zoë was scared that the slightest movement would break the spell, and everything that were tied by it would disappear. He shook his head, firmly but gently, as if assuring her that everything would be all right.

'But nothing would be fine again,' she thought as she reached out to grab his hand but all she could grasp was thin air. She was drowned in the sensation of nothingness and she didn't care. All she cared about at the moment was to try and remember Simon's every detail – his mesmerizing black orbs, those lips that had set invisible flames on her skin, his lean-built body, that muscular chest with the distinct white scar that signified who he was, and arms that provided her embraces that were protective.

By now, she could see through his presence, like a thin layer of sparkling dust. She panicked: the beauty that Simon alone possessed, of which Zoë could never remember quite clearly, was starting to fade from her memory. This instant thought startled her.

As the shadow of what was left of the three hundred year old vampire gradually dissolved into the glaring sunlight, Zoë dropped to the ground and rough earth met her skin. She couldn't feel the pain anymore could she feel other things; it was as if all of her senses were snapped off all of a sudden.

The white, guiding light of her path had turned itself off forever.

For how long she had stayed in that position, she could not remember, nor did she pay any attention. No one, not even one person, had crossed her path that day. It was only Zoë and the air that she breathed in every now and then; she knew she needed to breathe in order to survive but now the question had come down to this: did she even want to live after Simon had gone like that?

In the back of her mind, Zoë knew dead well that what she was considering was silly. Stupid, even. It was only a boy – a vampire if one wished to be precise – whom she had known for less than two weeks. Was he worth that much? It was just plain stupid to even contemplate this option.

'But Simon's not like other boys,' she reminded herself, her knees had gone numb after God-knows-how-long of kneeling and not moving one muscle. 'He understands me while others can't. He was there when I need comfort the most. He may be a creature of the night, but he is certainly not dangerous, like his brother, Christopher.' Why was she even having this argument in her head right now? Was this where it had end up in – talking to herself about someone who was gone and would never come back into her life?

'I'm pathetic,' she decided, letting a cold, bitter smile on her face, although she couldn't see how haunted she had appeared to be in that exact expression.

No tears had fallen so far.

'Good,' she almost congratulated herself. 'I don't need to start crying to make myself more than pathetic.' She wondered if her father was freaking out, looking for her frantically. 'Probably not,' she thought dully, beginning to get off the ground as the sun above her head was steadily covered by silent, black clouds.

Eyes straight ahead, but not really seeing anything, Zoë made her way shakily back home, letting her instinct guide her as her rational senses rendered dead.

The house was silent as a graveyard.

She walked past the refrigerator, and the 'talking banana' had something to say again. Not caring anything at the moment, let alone a note stuck by a banana magnet, Zoë poured herself a cup of hot water, then proceeded upstairs to her room.

'Either dad didn't want to wake me up,' Zoë thought in her mind. 'Or he thought I had gone out early.'

She paused at the front of her bedroom door. 'Or he just doesn't give a shit.' She growled angrily, having a sudden desire to break something. Anything.

'Stop it,' she screamed internally, twisting the door knob and stepped into the darkened room; she didn't bother with the light. 'Zoë Sutcliff, your father loves you and you know it! Why can't you stop being such a selfish bitch and try to be a more considerate daughter for once?'

"Shut up!" she panted heavily, her hysterical tone echoed in her ears again and again. She shivered; yet, it was not cold at all. Not really.

She must be going crazy. Hell, she was talking to herself and arguing with her conscience about a vampire – a God-damn vampire! All these things had to add up to something, right?


'Will someone please give me a God-damn answer?' But you just don't get an answer when you demand for it; it doesn't work that way. Zoë pulled her chair away from her desk and set it in front of the window while placing the steaming mug on the windowsill.

Occasionally, she would sip her water but she spent most of the time staring out of her window, not really thinking about anything at all.

Dark fell, soon followed by silver, liquid bullets.

Rain of September, veiling the full moon.

Whose tears are those?

It doesn't matter who left without saying goodbye.


"Simon," the pronunciation of his name only brought bitterness to Zoë's tongue. She had prepared for this, had she not? She knew he would be gone sooner or later. It was always sooner better than later, right?

We've never talk about eternity,

Nor have we thought about the meaning of separation.


The sky and its air became completely dark. Soft rain came down gently from the heaven, as if crying quietly for her sake. It was neither fierce, nor violent.

No one was home, still; she stood up, chair scraping the ground with her abrupt action.

Yet, in the darkness of September,

I stand alone in the rain for the whole night.

How can it take you away like that?

Leaving a storm swirling in my heart.


She let the rain hit her anywhere and everywhere, not doing a thing to protect herself from the tears of heaven. Her trembling fingers reached slowly up her face...

Give me a reason,

Let me face it.

I've already lost everything.

Let it all go.


'Am I crying?' Her fingers were bled with wetness, but she could no longer tell if it was her own tears or raindrops from the sky. Looking up, she let the moisture splash into her eyes, paining them, and mingling them with her salty tears. Her arms laid limp on either of her side.

That is the rain of September,

The so called pain and sadness that I cannot feel.

While staring at the sky's darkness,

I wonder: are you waiting on the other side?

Caressing my face, you shake your head, smile and tell me this is eternity.


"Zoë," it sounded vaguely familiar. Or was it only her mind playing tricks on her? She was too afraid to look.

'It can't be him,' Zoë kept telling herself this but her heart couldn't help but beat a second faster.

No need to depend on alcohol to numb myself.

I'm drunk every night in my own agony.


"Zoë? What happened, honey?"

"Dad," she knew she was breaking down.

She was breaking down.

The black moon rises over head,

Glowing on my face,

Shed by solitude.


"Zoë, what..." he stopped when his daughter ran into him, holding his neck with her arms so tight he could hardly breathe; he could hear her gasping for air and he immediately straightened the umbrella held tightly in his hand. He used his other arm to pat Zoë lightly on the back, attempting to sooth her down but to no avail.

"What's wrong?" Harry Sutcliff finally dared to ask, sensing his daughter had somewhat calm down. What could she possibly say? Oh yeah – "Dad, my vampire lover died this morning, that's why I'm crying my heart out and acting hysterical right now" – yeah, that would make so much sense. Not.

'Damn, now I'm being a sarcastic jerk, too.'

Don't give me comfort.

My heart is long ago broken into tiny pieces.

It's useless to say more.


"Dad, do you believe in time-traveling?"

A blank stare – and then, "What?"

"Well, do you?" Zoë sounded so serious; her gray eyes glowed with an intensifying light that almost scared him.

"Zoë, are you all right? Do you have a fever?" he began to put his hand on her forehead but she pulled away, back into the rain.

Who can turn time back for me?

Way back when...


She started back into the house, leaving a simple "I'll be in my room," behind her.

...when you're still by my side.


'What is wrong with me?' she moaned as she dragged herself upstairs, her body draining energy fast.

'Simon is gone! He has gone to a better place and is at peace, Zoë Sutcliff! Why won't you get this into your thick skull?!'

'I should be happy for him,' she realized. 'He was so painful when he was still alive because he cannot breathe in the sunlight, has to drink off other's lives. That smile he had when he was saying goodbye...'

How can I make you stay beside me once more?


She was calmer now, sitting on the edge of her unmade bed, droplets of water dangled and fell from her wet, shining locks.

"I think I'm free," he whispered. "All I had to do was go willingly."

"I love you, Zoë."

"That was all it matters at the end, wasn't it?" As her memory flashed in front of her eyes, the smile Simon held during that moment shone brightly. She let a weak smile showed on her teary face.

Before the rain of September falls...



Meeko: Gasp! A one-shot! Holy crap! That's like the first ever one-shot I've managed to keep it as a one-shot! Does that make any sense? Well, it makes sense to me anyhow. Sigh. I love the lyrics in this song, although I might not have translated this properly but I just figure this is a perfect song for the occasion. Please, your comments! I shall be waiting.