The rain hadn't stopped for hours.
It poured like the sky was grieving—each droplet striking the glass tower as though heaven itself wept for the girl who once trusted too much.
On the forty-third floor, Death Rose stood silently before the window, her reflection mirrored against the city lights that flickered like distant ghosts.
People whispered her name in awe and fear—the queen of an empire, the woman who built her throne from ashes.
But when the rain fell this hard, she could still taste the blood of her old wounds.
And in that reflection, she still saw Iris Ahn—the naïve girl who once believed in kindness.
---
Years ago, Iris's world was small: a stack of textbooks, a flickering lamp, and her parents' constant comparisons echoing through the walls.
"You got first place again?" her mother said, voice flat. "Good. Don't get comfortable."
Her father didn't even look up from his newspaper. "Aisha Lee got higher internal marks. Try harder next time."
Try harder.
It was always those two words.
So she did. She studied until her eyes burned, skipped meals to chase perfection, smiled through exhaustion because approval was the only currency that mattered in her home.
The only light she had was Aisha—her best friend.
Aisha, with her sunshine laughter and easy charm. The girl who hugged her when she cried, who said, "You're the smartest person I know, Iris."
Aisha, the one Iris trusted more than anyone else.
And then came Evan Kim—warm smile, gentle voice, soft hands that held hers when she trembled.
With him, Iris thought she finally found peace. Someone who saw her heart, not her grades.
For once, she let herself breathe.
---
When the national research competition was announced, Iris stayed awake night after night, building something beautiful—a project that could change lives.
When Aisha asked to "see it just for reference," Iris didn't hesitate. She trusted her like she trusted the sunrise.
But on the day of the presentation…
The auditorium lights dimmed, and the projector flickered on.
And there it was.
Her work. Her handwriting. Her formulas. Her dream—
beneath Aisha Lee's name.
The world blurred. Applause roared around her, every clap like a slap to her face. Teachers praised Aisha for her "brilliance," her "originality."
Iris sat frozen, heart pounding, throat burning with words she couldn't say.
When she confronted her after the ceremony, Aisha's eyes glistened with false tears.
"I didn't mean to— I just… you're always perfect. I wanted to shine too."
And before Iris could speak, Aisha gasped loud enough for others to hear, painting Iris as the jealous friend trying to steal her glory.
That night, Iris went home expecting comfort.
Instead, her mother's voice cut her open.
"Stop blaming others for your failure. Learn from her."
Her father didn't look at her once.
When the lights went out, Iris sat in the dark, surrounded by her awards and certificates. They stared back like ghosts of promises that meant nothing.
The girl who was once the pride of her class became invisible overnight.
---
A week later, it happened again—
the moment that shattered whatever was left of her heart.
It was raining that day too.
Iris had gone to return Evan's notebook. The streets smelled of wet soil, and she could still hear Aisha's laughter echoing in her mind.
Then, through the curtain of rain, she saw them.
Evan and Aisha.
He was holding her close, his fingers brushing her cheek with a tenderness Iris once knew by heart. And before Iris could even breathe—he kissed her.
Not the stolen kind.
Not a mistake.
A slow, deliberate, cruel kiss.
The world tilted. The sound of the rain turned deafening.
Her heart twisted in her chest, breaking without mercy.
Aisha's hands clutched his jacket, her lips curved in satisfaction—as if betraying Iris was victory.
When they finally pulled apart, Evan's voice carried through the rain.
"She doesn't have to know."
Iris staggered backward, her umbrella slipping from her trembling hands. The raindrops hit her skin like shards of glass.
She didn't cry—not yet. Her body was too shocked to remember how.
Later that night, she received a message.
From Aisha.
> You can't blame me for falling in love, Iris. Sometimes things just happen.
That line. It just happened.
The same words Evan said when she confronted him.
Something inside Iris died that night—quietly, without a sound.
---
In front of her mirror, Iris stared at the girl she no longer recognized.
Her eyes were swollen, but the tears had stopped.
Her chest hurt, but the ache was dull now—like a wound that had gone too deep to feel.
She whispered to the reflection,
"I gave them everything. And they turned me into nothing."
A smile, bitter and broken, curved on her lips.
That was the last night she prayed for love.
If love could be betrayed, she didn't need it.
If truth could be stolen, she would rewrite her own.
If kindness meant weakness, she would become the storm itself.
And so, Iris Ahn disappeared.
From her ashes bloomed Death Rose—a woman who learned to bloom in darkness, whose heart no longer broke but bled power.
---
Now, years later, the rain fell again.
But she stood in her tower, untouchable, surrounded by wealth, silence, and power that bent cities to her will.
When her assistant entered, she barely turned.
"Ma'am, your meeting schedule for tomorrow is ready. And… there's a Ms. Aisha Lee requesting an appointment."
For a moment, everything stilled.
The only sound was the rain tapping against the glass, the ghost of the past knocking on her door.
Death Rose's lips curved faintly, eyes shimmering with a calm fire.
"Schedule it," she said softly. "Tomorrow will be fine."
The assistant nodded and left.
Alone again, she lifted her glass of wine.
In the reflection of the window, she saw not the broken girl she once was, but the woman she chose to become.
"The night you betrayed me," she whispered, "was the night I learned how to rise."
Far below, the city lights flickered—unaware that one of its countless office workers, a woman named Aisha Lee, now worked for the empire built by the girl she destroyed.
Aisha had no idea that the elegant signature she saw every day—
Dr. I. Ahn—
belonged to the ghost of her past.
Outside, thunder rumbled like a promise.
And Death Rose smiled.
"Let's see if you still remember the scent of the roses you once crushed."
The rain fell harder, as though the heavens themselves bowed to her rebirth.
And for the first time in years, Death Rose felt alive.
The storm had only just begun.