By the time the last class ended, the sky had turned a pale gray.
The air hung heavy with that familiar scent — the one that always came right before rain.
Haruto lingered by the window, watching clouds roll slowly over the rooftops.
The cicadas had gone quiet, replaced by the distant rumble of thunder.
Aoi appeared beside him, her bag held close. "Uh-oh," she said, glancing outside. "Looks like we're going to get caught."
"Yeah," Haruto said, watching the first drops tap against the glass. "Do you have an umbrella?"
She held up a small one. "It's… technically an umbrella," she said, half-laughing. "But it barely fits one person."
Haruto smiled. "So, no."
"So, no," she echoed.
They waited a few minutes, but the rain only grew stronger — the kind that fell in sheets, loud enough to drown out the usual after-school chatter.
The hallway emptied as students ran for buses and bike racks.
Soon, it was just the two of them, standing side by side, watching the rain.
---
"Want to wait it out?" Haruto asked.
Aoi nodded, sitting on the windowsill. "Yeah. I don't mind."
He sat across from her, the two of them separated only by the narrow space of the hallway.
Outside, the puddles were already forming, rippling with every drop.
Aoi opened her sketchbook and began drawing without really thinking.
Haruto leaned forward a little. "What are you sketching?"
She smiled faintly. "Nothing yet. Just the sound."
He blinked. "You can draw that?"
"Mm-hm," she said, her pencil gliding softly across the page. "Not exactly, but… you can draw the feeling. Like how rain makes everything blur a little."
He watched as faint, curved lines began to fill the paper — light and soft, like falling threads.
Somehow, even her drawing sounded calm.
> She always finds a way to make stillness beautiful, he thought.
A few minutes passed before she looked up again.
"You know," she said quietly, "I used to hate rainy days."
"Really?"
"Yeah. They always felt lonely. Everyone rushing home, everything turning gray."
She glanced at the window, where water streamed down in shimmering trails. "But lately… it doesn't feel that way."
Haruto felt his heart skip slightly. "What changed?"
She smiled, small and honest. "Maybe the company."
For a second, the sound of rain seemed to fade — or maybe it just became softer.
---
When the rain finally slowed to a drizzle, they stood under the awning outside.
Aoi held out her umbrella, tilting it slightly toward him.
"It's small," she said, "but we can try."
He hesitated. "You'll get wet."
"So will you if you stay here forever," she said, laughing. "Come on."
He stepped under the umbrella, and for a moment, the space between them felt impossibly small — not uncomfortable, just quiet.
The rain dripped steadily from the edges, brushing their shoes.
As they walked, their shoulders brushed lightly once, then again. Neither said anything.
---
When they reached the corner where their paths split, Aoi turned to him with a bright smile.
"Thanks for walking with me," she said.
Haruto shook his head. "You're the one sharing the umbrella."
"Still counts," she said with a grin.
They both laughed — soft, simple, content.
As Haruto watched her turn the corner, umbrella bobbing like a tiny flower against the gray sky, he realized something quietly.
> Rain doesn't always make things lonely.
Sometimes, it makes them closer.