The rain didn't just fall; it collapsed from the sky. By the time Rika and Rentaro’s shift ended at 2:00 AM, the street outside the 7-Eleven was a shimmering black mirror, pelted by a relentless downpour.
"Great," Rentaro muttered, peering through the glass doors. "The weather report said light showers. This is a monsoon."
Rika checked her bag. She had her notebooks, her uniform, and her empty bento box—but no umbrella. She looked at the wall of water outside and felt a shiver of dread. After the emotional exhaustion of facing Rentaro’s past earlier that night, she just wanted to be home.
"I’ll just run for it," Rika said, bracing herself. "If I move fast enough, the physics of velocity should minimize the surface area of—"
"You’ll get pneumonia," Rentaro interrupted. He reached into the employee locker and pulled out a single, sturdy black umbrella. "I keep one here for emergencies. Come on."
"But... it’s small," Rika noted as they stepped out under the store’s awning.
"Then stay close," he said, popping the umbrella open. The fabric blossomed with a sharp thwack, creating a tiny, dry sanctuary in the middle of the storm.
Rika hesitated for a second before stepping into his space. To keep under the canopy, she had to stand much closer to him than she ever had. Her shoulder brushed his arm, and she could smell the faint scent of rain, laundry detergent, and the coffee he’d been drinking all night.
They began the walk home. The world was reduced to the rhythmic patter-patter of rain on nylon and the sound of their synchronized footsteps.
"Sorry," Rika whispered as they hit a narrow part of the sidewalk, forcing her to tuck her arm under his to stay dry.
"Don't worry about it," Rentaro said. His voice was steady, but Rika noticed his grip on the umbrella handle was white-knuckled. He was holding it tilted slightly more toward her side, making sure her bag and shoulders stayed dry while his own left sleeve began to soak through.
"You're getting wet, Rentaro-kun," she said, reaching up to shift the handle.
"I'm fine. I've got a thicker jacket than you," he lied.
They walked in silence for a while, the proximity turning the usual "rivalry" tension into something much more heavy and hum-like. Every time their hips bumped or their hands brushed, a small jolt of electricity seemed to spark through the damp air.
"About earlier," Rentaro said suddenly, his voice low. "At the store. Thanks for... you know. Standing in front of me."
Rika looked up at him. From this close, she could see the way the rain-dampened hair clung to his forehead and the sharp line of his jaw. "You've stood in front of me plenty of times, even if you did it with a sarcastic comment. I was just returning the favor."
"Still," he murmured. "No one’s ever done that for me before. They usually just look away."
Rika felt a strange tug in her chest. Without thinking, she tightened her hold on his arm. "Then they’re idiots. I might be your rival, Rentaro, but I’m not blind."
He stopped walking. They were just outside the apartment complex, the yellow light of the entrance reflecting in the puddles at their feet. Rentaro looked down at her, his dark eyes searching hers. For a moment, the rain seemed to fade into the background. The "Ice Queen" and the "Runner-Up" were gone; it was just two tired teenagers trying to find a way to stay warm.
Rentaro reached out, his hand hovering near her face before he settled for brushing a stray, wet lock of hair behind her ear. His touch was hesitant, almost a question.
"Shinozaki..."
The thunder rolled above them, breaking the spell. Rentaro cleared his throat and looked away, his face flushing a deep red that was visible even in the dim light.
"Let's... let's get inside. You're shivering."
As they climbed the stairs, the silence was different now. It wasn't the silence of two people ignoring each other, but the silence of two people who had just realized that the "paper-thin walls" between them weren't just made of wood and plaster—they were starting to come down.19Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡunWONf0Xhe
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