It was 9:07 PM. The rain had no intention of stopping.
Heavy sheets fell against the pavement, glistening under the flickering orange of the streetlights. Water pooled in the gutters, gurgling quietly. The city looked blurred, like someone had dragged their finger through a watercolor painting.
And me?
I was walking home in light blue shorts, a dark blue oversized top, and with a slowly sweating convenience store plastic bag in hand—contents: strawberry ice cream, melon soda popsicle, and emergency gum I'll never chew.
No umbrella, of course. I hadn't checked the weather.
But it was fine.
I was staying under the lifted shop awnings, hopping from one roof to the next like it was a personal game of Rain Avoidance Simulator. My ponytail was a little damp from the mist in the air, but nothing tragic.
Just a regular night.
Until I turned the corner and froze.
Because right across the narrow street, under the wide red awning of a 24-hour vending cafe, were Zay, Kiro, and Ryusuke.
In hoodies.
Eating warm buns from a bag.
Sharing a single drink like they'd been stuck there longer than expected.
Ryusuke spotted me first.
He grinned immediately. "No freakin' way—Nakahara?"
Zay glanced up lazily, hood halfway covering his red eyes.
Kiro blinked once, mid-sip from the drink. Quiet, observant.
I blinked back. "...Don't look at me like I'm a cryptid."
"You do appear suddenly," Ryu said, standing up and waving his arms dramatically through the rain. "Come here before you melt, Ice Cream Girl."
I glanced up at the rain still coming down in sheets.
Hesitated.
Zay spoke, voice calm. "You'll drop the popsicle."
That's what did it.
I exhaled, made a sprint across the narrow street—and reached the other side just in time to get mildly soaked. One wet sock. Some hair in my mouth. Classic.
"You look like a raccoon caught stealing snacks," Ryusuke commented, watching me shake off.
"I bought this," I muttered, holding up the bag.
Kiro shifted slightly to the side, making room under the awning. "You okay?"
"Yeah," I said, catching my breath. "Didn't know you guys lived around here."
Zay glanced at me, something unreadable in his expression. "We don't."
"Then why—?"
"Ryusuke said the new dumpling place was open until ten," Kiro explained.
"It was," Ryu confirmed. "Now we're trapped. Like survivors. Only with better snacks."
Zay looked up at the sky. "Give it ten more minutes."
"Sure," Ryusuke said. "And if it doesn't stop, what? Sleep in the vending machine?"
Silence.
Then Kiro surprised everyone by turning to me and saying, "...You live close, right?"
I paused.
"Fifteen-minute walk. Why?"
Zay looked at me then. Really looked. Hair slightly damp under his hood, red eyes calm even in the stormy glow of the city.
"You inviting us?" he asked casually.
I blinked. "To my house?"
"No," Ryusuke said, grinning. "To your umbrella. That you clearly brought."
I looked down at my drenched shirt sleeves and plastic bag of nearly-melted ice cream.
Kiro was the one who said it this time—quiet, polite, and direct:
"We won't stay long."
For some reason… I didn't say no.