Echoes in the Rain

The rain started as a whisper on the windows during third period—a gentle tapping that slowly grew louder, until by the time the final bell rang, the sky had opened up completely.

Eve stood beneath the overhang just outside the school building, clutching the straps of her bag. She stared out at the courtyard where water collected in puddles and shoes splashed through them carelessly. Umbrellas bloomed like flowers around her—bright, colorful, protective. She had none.

She hadn’t expected rain.

Students hurried past in groups, laughing, ducking under shared covers. Some offered her a quick glance of sympathy before moving on, but no one stopped.

Eve didn’t blame them. She wasn’t the kind of girl people stopped for.

She considered making a run for it. Her apartment wasn’t far—just down the hill and across the small park. She’d be soaked by the time she got there, but at least she wouldn’t have to just stand there, pretending she didn’t care.

“Planning to wait until monsoon season?”

The voice cut through the patter of rain.

Eve turned. Han Jin stood a few steps behind her, holding a navy-blue umbrella that looked too old for someone like him—tiny tear on the edge, the metal slightly bent. Water clung to the ends of his hair. His shirt collar was damp, and his blazer was nowhere to be seen.

“You again,” she muttered.

“Charming, as always.” He tilted the umbrella just slightly toward her. “Come on.”

She blinked. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not. You look like a soggy rabbit.”

“There it is again,” she sighed. “That nickname.”

“You keep reacting to it. That’s why it sticks.”

She stared at him for a second, then stepped under the umbrella. Just enough to avoid the rain. Not enough to be close.

They walked together in a silence that wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but not quite easy either. Eve focused on her steps, on the sound of water hitting the umbrella above them. She was careful not to brush his shoulder. He didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he did and didn’t care.

After a moment, he asked, “You live near the market, right?”

She turned to him, surprised. “How do you know that?”

“You pass the basketball courts every morning. I sit on the bleachers sometimes. You always look like you’re fighting the wind.”

“I—I didn’t know you watched.”

He shrugged. “You walk like you have somewhere important to be. That’s rare.”

Eve didn’t know how to respond to that.

When they reached the edge of the street where their paths split, he stopped.

“Well, go,” he said.

She looked up at him. “Why are you being... like this?”

“Like what?”

“Nice. Helpful. You’re not supposed to be.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m not nice, Rabbit. I’m just bored.”