Days turned into weeks.
The season changed — cherry blossoms bloomed across the campus roads, fluttering like soft confetti.
Everyone around seemed happy.
Except her.
Aiyumi smiled when others did.
She laughed when her friends cracked jokes.
But every night, when she lay in bed staring at the ceiling,
she felt an emptiness no one could touch.
She missed him.
Not the "Ren" who ignored her now —
but the one who used to wait outside her gate every morning,
the one who'd tease her about her art,
the one who knew how to make her laugh when she pretended she was fine.
One day, during a club event, she saw him again.
Not from far — but up close.
He was standing by the notice board, headphones in, pretending not to notice her.
But she caught that tiny moment — the way his fingers froze when she passed by.
Their eyes met for a split second.
It felt like the whole world went silent.
No words. Just two people pretending they didn't know each other,
even though their hearts still did.
Later that evening, the rain started again.
Everyone ran for shelter — except her.
Aiyumi stood outside, letting the raindrops soak her uniform.
"Maybe rain understands me," she whispered.
From behind, someone called softly —
"You'll catch a cold, idiot."
Her heart froze.
She turned.
Ren was standing there — holding an umbrella,
expression unreadable.
He didn't smile.
Didn't look angry either.
Just… tired.
For a second, neither of them moved.
Then he slowly placed the umbrella in her hand,
his fingers brushing hers for a moment —
and walked away.
No words.
No apology.
Just silence — louder than any storm.
💭 Sometimes, people don't come back with promises or grand gestures.
They just show up quietly — like rain — reminding you they never truly left.