Rain.
Not the kind of soft drizzle people would call romantic.
And not the kind of downpour that turns the whole sky white, as if it wants to wash everything away.
It was just an ordinary rain in the middle of April.
The raindrops fell in a steady rhythm, lightly tapping against the windowpane in small, broken notes. It was not loud, but it was enough to pull the attention of anyone careless enough to let their mind wander.
Inside the classroom, the teacher continued the lesson from the podium as usual. His voice droned on through the slightly stuffy air, explaining a famous literary work, the meaning behind its words, the emotions the author had poured into every passage.
But Rain had no intention of listening.
Or rather, he simply did not want to.
From beginning to end, his eyes stayed fixed on the window, watching the raindrops hit the glass and slide down in long, uneven trails. He sat there quietly, resting his chin on one hand, his calm expression making it seem as though he had completely detached himself from the class.
He did not know why, but it was always like this.
Whenever he looked at the rain, his heart would grow strangely peaceful.
Not a bright, cheerful kind of peace.
Just something quiet and gentle, as if the rain softened every noise around him. The chaos in his thoughts slowed down. Even his heart seemed to settle.
At that moment, a girl's voice spoke up beside him.
"You really like the rain, don't you, Rain? Every time it rains, you always look so much more relaxed."
Rain tilted his head slightly, finally pulling his gaze away from the window to look at the girl sitting next to him. He stayed silent for a moment before answering in a casual tone.
"Yeah. To me, rain feels warm."
The girl blinked, then let out a small laugh.
"Warm? Most people would think that sounds weird. Rain usually makes people think of coldness, doesn't it?"
Rain turned his eyes back to the rain outside.
"Maybe. But that's still how it feels to me."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
His answer was honest.
"It's just... whenever I watch the rain, I feel a little more at ease. Like everything slows down. No one bothers me, and I don't have to think so hard about anything."
The girl rested her chin on her hand and looked at him for a while, curiosity flickering in her eyes.
"You're hiding from the world, aren't you?"
Rain gave a small laugh.
"Maybe I am."
"I wish I had a place I could hide in too. Like you do."
"I don't mind sharing."
The girl looked at him for a few more seconds before turning back toward the rain outside the window. The two of them kept talking for a while after that, without any real beginning or end to the conversation. Just the kind of ordinary talk two people would share during an ordinary class, on an ordinary rainy day.
Then, all of a sudden, she asked,
"Hey, Rain... do you believe in reincarnation?"
Rain turned to look at her, a faint frown forming on his face.
"Huh? That's kind of a weird topic out of nowhere."
The girl laughed, but she kept her eyes on him, clearly waiting for an answer.
"Just answer me."
Rain fell silent for a moment. He did not reply right away, as if he were genuinely thinking about the question, even though it had come out of nowhere and had nothing to do with what they had been talking about.
In the end, he gave a small shrug.
"If I had to answer... then no. I don't believe in it at all."
The girl remained quiet.
Rain continued, his tone calm and matter-of-fact.
"One life is already more than enough."
At that, she laughed.
"Haha, yeah. You're right."
Rain looked at her, though he did not think too deeply about the question she had asked. Maybe she had only brought it up on a whim. Maybe it was just some passing thought.
He had no way of knowing there had been something more behind those words.
And he could not possibly have known that...
This would be the last time he ever spoke to her.
---
Southern Continental Center
Pointer Area
Kingdom of Elios
In the middle of a vast plaza, a boy sat alone on a bench near a stone-paved path.
He looked about eighteen years old.
His face was refined, his features neat and well-shaped, with a straight nose and deep, quiet eyes. At a glance, anyone would have thought he was the young master of some noble family. Even the way he sat looked effortlessly composed, neither stiff nor restless, completely unaffected by the crowds moving through the square.
But if one looked closer, it became obvious that the first impression of elegance was misleading.
The clothes he wore were old. A few parts had clearly been stitched up more than once. They were not torn to the point of ruin, nor could they be called shabby, but they were certainly not the sort of clothes a noble boy would wear out in public.
In his hand was a cup of coffee, still giving off faint curls of steam.
He took a sip.
And immediately frowned.
"Tch. Bitter as hell. Does this world seriously not know how to make anything sweeter?"
His voice was full of displeasure, as though he truly held a grudge against the drink in his hand. Even so, he kept drinking it—one sip, then another.
Not because he liked it.
But because, for him, that bitterness carried a faint sense of nostalgia.
A distant, hazy feeling, barely there, and yet enough to keep him from putting the cup down.
A light breeze swept through the plaza, carrying the lively atmosphere of the city along with it. Footsteps, conversation, the sound of wheels rolling across stone—everything blended together into the kind of busy, vibrant noise that defined a place like this.
And yet the boy remained where he was, as though he stood completely apart from the world around him.
After a while, he slipped a hand into his pocket.
It took him a moment before he finally pulled out a slightly worn piece of paper. The edges were crumpled, but it was still intact enough for the words on it to be read clearly.
He unfolded it.
Written across it in clear letters were the words:
Letter of Admission
His eyes stopped on the line beneath it.
Enrollment Date:
13/4/697, Louis Calendar
He stared at the paper for a long moment before quietly muttering,
"So... it's finally time."
His voice was so low it nearly disappeared into the wind.
He folded the paper again, but did not put it away right away. His fingers continued to hold onto it, as though his thoughts had drifted somewhere far beyond this place. The coffee in his hand had already cooled a little, but the bitterness still lingered on his tongue.
He leaned back and looked up at the sky above the plaza.
No rain.
And yet, for some reason, in that brief moment, he thought of the sound of rain falling.
The corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly, forming a smile whose meaning was hard to read.
"School, huh... that really doesn't suit me."
He muttered to himself before letting out a slow breath.
"But if I've already received the invitation, I guess I don't have much of a choice."
He glanced down at the paper in his hand once more.
"Hopefully, that place at least knows how to make something easier to drink than the coffee here."
With that, he raised the cup and took another sip, despite the thoroughly resigned look still on his face.
The plaza was as crowded as ever. The wind still brushed softly past his ears. People kept moving back and forth.
And he remained there, sitting with a bitter cup of coffee, an old admission letter in hand, and the vague feeling that from this point on...
things were probably going to change.