The Rain Stopped.
A faint sunlight spread through the low-hanging clouds.
Yet, for some reason, the clearing sky felt unsettling.
When the rain stops, everything is supposed to return to normal.
But I was still lost, wandering in this distorted flow.
Lying on my desk, I turned on my smartphone.
My fingers swiped the screen out of habit.
In the original story, where were they supposed to be at this point?
I searched my memory.
By now, Lee Jian should be feeling awkward around Yoon Jihoo.
And from there, a series of coincidental encounters would build up—emotions budding, realizations dawning, jealousy flaring, pain sinking in—
Until, in the end, a heartbreaking conclusion.
A sad ending, just for her.
Not a happy one.
But now?
So much had already changed from the original story.
“It’s because of my interference, isn’t it?”
Unconsciously, I clenched my hand.
The same scene kept playing in my mind.
A darkened gymnasium.
A silhouette moving on the stage.
The trail of light she painted with her fingertips.
The moment she disappeared under the umbrella, only to reappear again.
That was… a scene I had never seen in the original.
In the original story, she was just a part of the stage.
But now, she was the one shaping it.
What kind of ending would this change bring?
Would you—unlike in the original—be able to find happiness?
My fingers, which had been scrolling through my phone, suddenly halted.
A name appeared in the message window.
[Lee Jian]:
Let’s go together.
My fingertips trembled slightly.
If things were going according to the original story,
By now, she should be growing closer to Yoon Jihoo.
But—
Why did she ask me to go with her?
“Maybe it was just a coincidence.”
I was searching for coincidence in a place where coincidence had no place.
Foolishly.
I set my phone down again.
As if it was nothing.
Yet, the gaze that had been fixed on the rain outside moments ago no longer strayed from my phone screen.
“Should I reply…?”
My fingers hesitated.
But in the end, I turned off the screen.
I slung my bag over my shoulder and quietly left the classroom.
I walked down the hallway swiftly, never looking back.
As if I were running away, trying to avoid someone.
“…Maybe I should’ve just said it.”
I tapped my phone screen with my fingertips.
Let’s go together.
I actually wanted to say it in person.
In the classroom, at the door, maybe even as he was packing his bag.
There were plenty of chances.
And yet, somehow, the words wouldn’t come out.
My throat felt scratchy for no reason, my mouth suddenly dry.
“It’s nothing big…
I could’ve just blurted it out.”
So in the end, I sent a message instead.
Normally, I would’ve just said,
“Hey, let’s go together.”
That would’ve been enough.
But today—
For some reason, the words wouldn’t leave my lips.
“What the hell, is it just me being weird…?”
Even after sending the message, I kept checking my phone, regretting it.
Read.
I stared at the screen.
1 second.
2 seconds.
3 seconds.
…5+.
No reply.
I clenched my phone tightly.
Reading it but not responding—that meant he was deliberately ignoring it.
No way, what’s he so busy with?
I tapped my desk with my fist in frustration.
“What is this, seriously?”
It annoyed me more than it should.
It wasn’t even a big deal.
And yet, somehow, getting ignored by Kim Dohyun felt like being rejected.
I puffed out my cheeks and checked my phone again.
Still, no reply.
“So petty.”
The complaint left my lips on its own.
We used to walk home together every day, but at some point, he started slipping away.
And now, he’s straight-up leaving me behind?
I mean, come on.
He’s like a cat.
He approaches when you least expect it, sits next to you—
But the moment you try to get closer, he slips away.
“…Isn’t this too much?”
I pouted as I stared at the can in my hand.
Barley tea.
I never even noticed this drink existed before.
Now, it felt weird when it wasn’t there.
And after getting me addicted to it!
I pressed the can between my hands in frustration.
“He’s only good at taking care of useless things.”
He always made sure I had stuff like this—
But now, he’s just leaving me?
I pursed my lips and tossed the empty can into the trash.
Thunk.
A crisp sound.
But my mood didn’t lighten at all.
I looked out the window.
The sky, cleared after the rain.
And—
That unmistakable silvery-gray hair.
Without hesitation, I grabbed my bag.
And quickly left the classroom.
The Rain-Soaked Asphalt Gleamed.
The rain had stopped, but the sky remained dark, heavy with lingering clouds.
Puddles reflected the sky, the buildings within them appearing the same yet different.
A car roared past, splashing through a puddle.
The reflection shattered, its fragmented pieces flying toward me.
“Ah.”
My pants—no, even the cuffs of my sleeves—were drenched.
I lifted my arm.
Droplets trickled down.
And then, from beside me, I heard laughter.
“Pfft.”
A soft chuckle.
Then—click.
I turned my head.
There stood Lee Jian, phone in hand, smirking at me with mischievous delight.
“Got one.
Today’s my lucky day.”
She looked up at the sky as she said it, as if mocking my misfortune.
Then, pointing at me, she continued,
“You deserved it.
Huh?
That’s what you get for leaving me behind.
The sky is punishing you.”
I calmly smoothed out my wet collar and replied,
“The sky?
Did I do something that bad?
That seems unfair.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“You’ve been avoiding me lately.”
Lee Jian took a step forward.
Then another.
A bold stride, closing the distance.
“Me?
Hmm, I don’t really remem—”
I instinctively stepped back.
But before I could even process it—
“What the—?!”
And then, splat.
My feet slipped, sending me tumbling down in the most dramatic fashion possible.
“Are you an idiot?
It’s not like you stepped on a trap or something.”
I reached out and pulled her up.
But as she stood, for a brief moment, our faces were too close.
The humid air, the droplets trickling from her damp bangs—
Her eyes, shimmering with light.
My heart lurched.
Too close.
A bead of water slipped from her wet hair, landing on the back of my hand.
And in that instant, I realized—
She was soaked.
No, wait, she was.
I turned away hastily, feeling the heat rise to my face.
“What?
Why’s your face so red?”
“…Your clothes.”
She didn’t respond right away.
Instead, she silently opened her bag and pulled out a spare set of gym clothes.
“Here, put this on.”
“Won’t they get wet too?”
“Is that really the issue right now?”
At my hesitation, she quietly retracted the clothes.
And then—
“…Thanks.”
At that moment, everything went still.
Her voice—
It wasn’t playful.
It wasn’t assertive.
For the first time, it was soft, hesitant, almost a whisper.
The words blurred slightly at the end, carrying a warmth unlike before.
Like rain-scented air, lingering and delicate.
It struck something within me.
A sound as clear as a raindrop, yet filled with something deeper—an emotion quietly seeping through.
A familiar voice, creating an unfamiliar atmosphere.
Drip.
A raindrop fell, dissolving into the ground.
Just like her words, fading into the air.
I followed them with my gaze.
“Okay.
You can turn around now.”
Her still-damp bangs, the soft breath she exhaled—
The rain-soaked air clung to me, thick yet carrying an unexpected warmth.
Her usual liveliness was replaced with an uncharacteristic stillness, standing in stark contrast to the dim sky.
“What’s with that dumb look?
Did you fall for me or something?”
“…Don’t do that.
It’s misleading.”
“What is?”
“If you act like that with other people, they’ll think you like them.”
A sharp inhale.
“…Then what about you?”
“I wouldn’t misunderstand.”
I answered firmly.
Because I already knew—
She liked someone else.
“Is that so?”
Her voice trembled slightly.
Like a raindrop disturbing the stillness of a puddle.
Then—
“Achoo!”
Was she catching a cold?
Well, the temperature had dropped after the rain.
And she was completely drenched.
Looking closer, I noticed a small scrape on her knee.
“Wait.
My place is nearby.
Just stop by to dry off and get that treated.”
“Forget it.
What are you talking about?”
“Your house is far.
Are you really gonna walk all the way like this?”
She didn’t respond.
I stopped walking and turned back.
Lee Jian stood there, head lowered, fidgeting with her damp collar.
Her face was flushed, and in a small, almost inaudible voice, she murmured,
“You’re so unfair.”
Slowly, she lifted her gaze.
Droplets trickled from her wet hair.
Drip.
Drip.
They fell onto the asphalt like tiny tears.
And in that moment, her damp eyelashes fluttered.
She smiled—
But it wasn’t the usual one.
It was a forced, hollow smile, carrying the same melancholy as the sky after the rain.
“And you’re so clueless.”
She laughed.
A laughter laced with something bittersweet.
Like the sky, just after a storm—clear yet tinged with sorrow.
“Ha…
Do you really not get it? I…”
A quiet sigh escaped her lips.
Then, a faint pressure—
She had gripped the hem of my shirt.
For a brief second, our eyes met at an almost nonexistent distance.
“…Never mind.
Forget it.”
She let go.
But strangely, the ghost of her touch lingered, as if she had wanted to hold on just a little longer.
Without another word, I led her toward my house.
And then, just barely audible—
“So… does that mean I can misunderstand too?”
A whisper carried away by the wind.
I heard it.
And yet, I said nothing.
Because I was unfair like that.
Because I didn’t know what to say.
So I just kept walking.
Pretending I hadn’t heard a thing.