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Chasing Storms,Catching Hearts

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Chapter 1 - Car Trouble in the Rain

The clouds broke not long after Ra-in left the café.

Rain poured in relentless sheets, drumming on her Avante's roof until it sounded like applause for her bad luck.

"Come on, baby, not tonight," she muttered, coaxing the wheel as if affection could replace maintenance.

The engine coughed twice, sighed, and died.

"Yah! Wake up!"

Nothing.

Hazard lights blinked a weak rhythm—tick ... tick ... tick—as the storm swallowed Songdo's late-night traffic.

She popped the hood, water splashing her sneakers, steam curling like sarcasm.

A deep purr rolled out of the darkness. Headlights—low, bright, predatory.

A Yamaha R1 glided to a stop beside her.

The rider flipped up his visor.

Woo-jin.

"Planning to camp here all night?" His voice slid through the rain, calm and certain.

Ra-in blinked. "What's it to you?"

"It's my road," he said, stepping off the bike.

"Wow. Confidence issues?"

He ignored the jab, leaned over the engine, and worked the latch open. "Battery's sulking."

"How can you tell?"

He glanced at her. "She sounds like you."

Ra-in sputtered. "Excuse me?!"

"Try it again."

She climbed in, turned the key. The engine sputtered ... then died.

"Stubborn," he murmured.

"You're one to talk."

He lowered the hood with a soft thunk, water streaming off his sleeves. "Get inside. You'll freeze."

"I'm fine."

"I wasn't asking."

His tone wasn't harsh—just steady enough to melt her resistance. She obeyed without quite meaning to.

When the Avante finally caught on the third try, she whooped.

Woo-jin's mouth curved. "See? She listens to me."

"Then marry her," she muttered.

He laughed—quiet, low, almost warm. "Goodnight, Miss."

By the time she looked back, his taillight was already swallowed by rain.

☀ The Next Morning

Songdo traffic was merciless.

Cars crawled bumper to bumper, horns blaring like an orchestra of impatience.

"Come on, move la!" Ra-in muttered, thumping the steering wheel. "I fixed you last night—don't embarrass me again."

The Avante groaned but kept rolling. By the time she reached Haneul Institute's gates, she was twenty minutes late and ready to cry.

She darted into the nearest parking space, grabbed her bag, and sprinted toward Lecture Hall 3. Her ponytail was half-undone, blouse sticking to her back, sneakers squeaking on the tiles.

The door creaked open mid-lecture. Heads turned.

Ra-in bowed so fast her hair whipped forward. "Sorry, Professor!"

Professor Nam lowered his tablet, one brow lifting.

"Miss Han Ra-in, I presume—since yours was the only name unanswered during roll call?"

Ra-in froze. "Ah—yes, sir! Sorry, Professor! Traffic was insane!"

"So is your timing," he said dryly. "Take your seat, Miss Han. You're lucky this isn't a graded assignment."

Laughter rippled through the room as she slunk into a seat beside Choi Ha-neul.

"Smooth," Ha-neul whispered. "Main-character entrance achieved."

"Shut up," Ra-in hissed. "I'd rather be invisible."

"Too late for that."

Professor Nam adjusted his glasses. "Now that everyone's finally here ..." He gestured toward the side. "Mr. Kang Woo-jin, our TA, will handle your orientation. Listen to him; he probably knows more about torque than I ever will."

Polite laughter again. Woo-jin stepped forward, sleeves rolled, stylus in hand. The smartboard lit up behind him, neat diagrams appearing in confident strokes.

"Since this is your first semester," he began, "we'll need a class rep to coordinate with professors and labs."

His gaze swept the hall, unhurried—and landed on Ra-in, still half-shrinking behind her notebook.

"You."

"M-me?"

"You came late," he said, tone even. "Make up for it."

A wave of chuckles. Jung Mi-so whispered, "Omo, he's picking his victim."

Ha-neul nudged Ra-in. "Just accept before he changes his mind."

Ra-in swallowed her pride. "Fine, sunbae."

Woo-jin nodded once and returned to the board, projecting workshop schedules, attendance QR codes, safety rules. His calm filled the space, but Ra-in couldn't stop watching him. The same voice from last night, now amplified through classroom speakers.

No way.

He's that biker from last night?

She pinched her wrist under the desk. Reality stung.

After class, Woo-jin called, "Class rep, stay behind."

Ha-neul mouthed rip in peace and fled.

Ra-in approached the desk like it might bite. "What do you want, sunbae?"

"Responsibilities," he said, sliding a tablet toward her. "Attendance sheets, assignment deadlines, workshop coordination. I'll send you the roster."

"Why me?"

He looked up, eyes calm but gleaming. "Because you're noisy. I don't like quiet rooms."

Ra-in gaped. "That's not a reason!"

"It's my reason."

He took a step closer—not too close, but enough that she felt the gravity between them. "And tie your hair properly in the workshop. You'll catch it in a drill."

Her breath hitched. "Don't act like you care."

"I care about safety," he said. "And paperwork. Accident reports are annoying."

"Wah. Romantic."

"See you tomorrow, class rep."

He walked out, leaving her fuming, blushing, alive with irritation.

Ha-neul reappeared instantly, thrusting a hair tie into her hand. "He's right. Also, you totally blushed."

"I did not."

"You did. Pink like a macaron."

Ra-in groaned. "I already hate this semester."

They stepped into the corridor, sunlight cutting across the floor.

"Coffee shift after this?" Ha-neul asked.

"Moonlight Café at six," Ra-in sighed. "If my antique starts."