There I was, standing by the edge of a quiet pond, my eyes fixed on a single lotus.
It was… unreal.
Surrounded by mud, rooted in still, murky water—yet untouched by it all. Pure. Soft. Beautiful in a way that didn't make sense. My gaze refused to move beyond it. Not the mud around it, not the ripples, not even the rain that had started to fall.
Just the lotus.
This had all started five minutes ago.
I was on my way back home from the office when the sky suddenly broke open. Rain poured down without warning—heavy, cold, unforgiving.
"Great… I forgot my umbrella."
I sighed quietly, already drenched. Out of habit, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a cigarette. The lighter was wet, stubborn, almost useless—but after a few failed tries, it sparked.
Barely.
I took a drag, exhaling slowly, letting the smoke dissolve into the rain.
That's when my eyes drifted.
Toward a tree near the pond.
And then—
I saw her.
For a moment, I thought I was still staring at the lotus.
She stood there beside the pond, close enough that the water reflected her faintly. Raindrops traced along her figure, and the cold made her shiver slightly. Fragile… like glass.
Or like that lotus.
I didn't know why—but I couldn't look away.
Why am I staring like this?
I don't even know her…
And yet, it felt like I had been waiting to see her.
The wind suddenly picked up, sharp and restless. The rain grew harsher, almost playful in its cruelty. My cigarette flickered… and died.
For a strange second, it felt like the universe was playing a joke—trying to force something pure into something messy. Like it wanted to mix the lotus with the mud.
Before I could think further, people around us started running for cover. Instinctively, I moved with them, and we all gathered under a small wooden shelter.
And now…
I was close to her.
Closer than I should have been.
Close enough to notice the slight tremble in her hands. Close enough to feel that pull again—that quiet, dangerous curiosity that makes you step forward without thinking.
Maybe I was crossing a line.
But still—
"Ma'am… would you like a cigarette?" I asked, my voice unsure but steady. "It might help with the cold."
She stared at me.
Of course she did.
Even I realized how strange that sounded. A random guy offering a cigarette in the middle of the rain.
But after a moment—
She nodded.
I handed her one, along with the lighter.
And then I froze.
As she lifted the cigarette to her lips, something about the moment felt… delicate. Her lips were soft, almost like petals—like the lotus I had been staring at just moments ago.
She took a drag.
And immediately coughed.
I bit my lip, trying not to laugh.
"First time?" I asked, unable to hide the smile in my voice.
Her cheeks flushed slightly, turning a soft shade of red.
"Shut up, stupid."
Her voice—
It was gentle. Warmer than the rain. Softer than I expected.
Something shifted inside me.
It was unfamiliar. Restless.
"You know," I continued, my mind refusing to stay quiet, "you just took a cigarette from a stranger. Didn't you feel scared? What if I was… creepy or something?"
She looked at me for a moment.
Then… she smiled.
Not fully. Just enough.
"If you talk this much," she said softly, a hint of sarcasm in her tone, "does your mouth ever start hurting?"
I paused.
Fair enough.
She didn't say anything after that. Just looked at me—directly this time.
And then—
"The rain has stopped, sir."
I glanced outside.
Of course it had.
Why does it always stop at the worst time…?
I ran a hand through my wet hair, my thoughts louder than ever, probably making the strangest expression without realizing it.
She noticed.
"What's your name?" she asked.
For a second… everything went blank.
I just kept looking at her.
Like I had found something rare. Something I didn't understand yet—but didn't want to lose.
"Izek," I said.
She smiled.
A soft, fleeting smile.
"Maybe we'll meet again," she said. "And then I'll tell you my name."
And just like that—
She began to walk away.
Slowly.
Not disappearing… but fading. Like light slipping away after sunset. Like a lotus closing itself as darkness settles over the pond.
I stood there, watching her go.
Not moving.
Not calling out.
Just… hoping.
Maybe I'll see her again.
Maybe… at sunrise.
With that fragile hope, I finally turned away.
Back in my room, I let hot water run over me, washing away the cold—but not the feeling.
That stayed.
Afterward, I stood by the window, looking outside.
The world looked different.
Rain does that—it softens everything. Makes even the ordinary feel… meaningful.
The air carried the quiet scent of wet earth. Calm. Grounding.
And somehow—
Tonight, it felt like that scent belonged to me.
Like the rain had left something behind.
Not in the streets.
But in me.
Maybe it was nothing.
Or maybe…
It was the beginning of something I wasn't ready to understand.