First and foremost, thank you to my lovely editor, Vespisia. Without you, I don't think I can live. haha jk.

I have no claim on Immortal Rain. Out of inspiration, I kind of wanted to elaborate on chapters 20-30 (I'm not sure what chapts...I forgot...) and this is how "Memories of the Ocean" came to mind.

"How long has it been," Yuca murmured as he fingered the glossy illustration of the book, "that you and I last saw the ocean together, Rain?"

Silence passed in the playroom except for the soft crinkles of paper as Yuca flippantly thumbed through a children's picture book while lying down on his stomach. Opposite of him, Rain sat like a silent statue with his arms bound by a strait jacket.

"The feeling of the ocean and its blueness…seems all fake to me now, because it's captured into paper." Yuca shook his head, and smiled. "But still, no matter how fake it seems…I still want to take you there. We can fish there sometime from now. There are many types of fishes…" he trailed off.

Yuca chuckled to himself and glanced up at his silent companion. "But something as brilliant as the ocean will never exist again." In the dim light, he studied the shadows that danced on Rain's stoic face then burst out laughing, chastising himself for foolishly carrying on his one-sided monologue, but he continued, undeterred "I think I saw the ocean on a set in a movie or somewhere…"

But Yuca knew that he was lying to himself. The ocean he saw in the past clearly replayed in his mind. Thousands of memories of the ocean, but he only recalled one, and it contained Freya and Rain when they were all children. He remembered the individual grains of sand sifting through his toes. He recalled the salty smell of the ocean tickling his nose. He was standing under a vivid blue sky and a glowing ball of fire known as the sun. But then the memory melted, replaced by something uglier.

His next memory was the one after the war, and the ocean disappeared behind the rubble and destruction of the war's aftermath. The blueness was vanishing, sinking back into the earth dry earth. All that was left was the harsh sun at the pinnacle of the sky, scorching him with its rays, and the sky that resembled the ocean was painted a melancholic gray. Achingly, he remembered mourning for the blueness of the ocean, and the cleanness of the salty waters.

"Dreams and reality confuse me…" Yuca paused as he lovingly caressed the ocean in the book, "and the ocean, the wind, and the sand; they all seem to melt away from my grasp…even the sun seems to mock me," his tone drifted into a whisper.

Yuca snapped the book shut and mused aloud, "You've become quite a bore, Rain."

He looked into Rain's glassy eyes. "I know that you're listening," Yuca smiled knowingly, "and I know that you're still mad at me about Freya."

Rain's countenance remained unchanged and Yuca wrinkled his delicate nose as if he had just sniffed something rotten. What was he thinking? Talking to an immobile Rain. He might as well converse to a statue. Rain…Rain…Rain, what should I do to you? Yuca silently questioned himself as he poignantly studied Rain's expression for a break in his friend's carefully molded mask. Out of all of his hard work, Yuca admitted to himself that by far, this was his best work, because he used ichor—the serum used to neutralize angel blood—to bend Rain to his will into a living doll. His living doll.

The dosage of ichor that he gave Rain was effective for someone as big as Rain. Ichor numbs the body entirely and clouds the body's five senses, but Rain was special. Although Yuca had managed to deaden the functions of Rain's body, his friend's five senses were still active. He chose Rain, because he was his Methuselah, his friend, and his untimely nemesis…

And Freya…she is the link of our cruel, twisted and intertwined fates. Yuca smiled inwardly as he thought of Rain's second heart, or rather, Freya's heart. Mortal emotions are something he can never comprehend. They die so easily, they fracture so easily, and they break so easily like Freya. His Freya, no…Rain's Freya. He couldn't sleep these days, because the moment when he closes his eyes, she would be there standing in a field of snow…no…not snow this time but white flowers, and they were all shedding their petals around her, falling like flakes of snow.

Her smile, her laughter, her touch, it sears his memories, burning into his mind like a hot branding iron. Night after night, he often occupied his mind with queries of why this simple-minded girl can make him tremble in his sleep. After that, he no longer slept, because every time he closed his eyes, she's there, and when he wakes up, his ideals would be forgotten. Yuca would never allow that. He doesn't want to forget, but he also doesn't want to remember either. His ideals, he keeps reminding himself, are carved into Rain's cross. It's very simple: he would end the world. Nothing more, nothing less. Only simple-minded people with simple-minded hearts—only fools would stop him. Fools like the fool sitting in front of him now.

With a heavy sign, Yuca stood up. "Freya is but a memory, Rain. Forget her. She is the ocean that ceased to exist. Why remember something that would hurt you, my friend?" He turned his back on Rain and added, "And like all bad memories," he caressed the book, "they are best to be discarded," Yuca finished softly as he dumped the book in the waste basket. He turned his gaze from the basket and walked towards the light switch on the wall.

The room immediately plunged into semidarkness when Yucca pulled the switch. There was no artificial light except for the moonlight shining through the dome-like ceiling. Accustomed to the darkness, Yuca easily made his way towards the doors. Kids his age would cry if there was such thing as darkness, but he belonged in the blackness. He told himself that many times. Time and time again. Long ago, he came up with this theory: in the darkness, there was no beginning, nor was there an ending. He'll always be safe from those memories.

"It's getting late. I have to get to bed on time now. Lately, the nurses told Mother that I never slept." With one hand on the door, Yuca turned back and smiled at Rain's silhouette, "Rest well, Rain."

When the light from the hallway finally faded from under the door, Rain allowed himself to cry.