Three Years Ago.
Chaos erupted across Santa Barbara High School as the announcement blared through the speakers: "Attention!! Students of Santa Barbara High School. All classes are canceled due to the incoming super typhoon. Everyone must leave the building immediately!"
Students scrambled out of the classrooms, panic echoing in their footsteps, while others froze in confusion along the corridors.
Inside the comfort room, Janelle Montenegro stood before the mirror, carefully applying her makeup. She let out a soft sigh, pausing for a moment as the announcement repeated.
A smirk tugged at her lips. "They even canceled classes? It's not even raining… idiots."
But by 4:30 PM, the storm arrived in full force. The wind howled, thunder roared, and glass shattered somewhere outside the building. Janelle froze, her eyes darting up to the ceiling above her.
Her smirk faded. "Shit… it's real."
She snatched her things and rushed out, leaving behind only the faint scent of perfume—and the fear that was now swallowing the school.
All the buildings had fallen silent. Empty. The storm howled against the walls, and Janelle, terrified, rushed outside.
Relief washed over her when she spotted a male student standing alone under the waiting shed.
"At least… someone's still here," she thought, her chest loosening.
She walked closer, brushing rain from her face.
"The rain's really strong, huh?" she asked, forcing a smile.
The boy glanced at her, but said nothing. His gaze drifted back to the roof of a nearby house, as if she weren't even there.
"Why didn't they just cancel classes earlier?" Janelle pressed, looking at him again.
Her voice rose, annoyed. "Excuse me! Are you deaf or just dumb?"
Still, he ignored her. His focus never left the roof. The wind groaned louder, ripping at the sheets of metal.
Janelle scoffed and shouted over the storm. "Hello? A little attention here, please!" Then, under her breath, "Tch… you're not even handsome anyway."
Before she could roll her eyes, the house roof tore free with a violent gust, hurtling straight toward them. Janelle froze—until, in an instant, the boy lunged forward and pulled her away.
Time slowed. The world spun as he held her by the waist, pulling her from danger. Her eyes locked on him, wide with shock, but his expression remained cold, detached. A heartbeat later, he let go.
Her gaze caught the name on his school ID, swaying against his chest: KENT SALAS.
His voice cut through the storm. "Go home. You're reckless enough as it is."
Then, without waiting for her reply, Kent stepped out from the waiting shed, walking straight into the rain.
Suddenly—CRRRKKKK! BOOM!!
The sound of splitting concrete cracked the air. Kent turned sharply. The waiting shed collapsed in on itself.
Janelle was gone beneath it. Blood streaked the water where her head had struck.
Kent's eyes widened. His steps slowed as he approached. An umbrella drifted across the floodwater. He knelt down, staring blankly at what remained.
The screen faded—lingering on the floating umbrella—while the distant wail of an ambulance grew louder, until everything dissolved into black.