The rain started before school ended.
By the time the last bell rang, the smell of wet asphalt had already filled the corridors.
Mika stayed behind, her fingers resting on the edge of her desk, tracing the scratches left by other hands. Outside, everyone was running, laughing and shouting. She hated how alive they sounded.
When she finally stood up, her chair made a noise too loud for the quiet classroom.
Someone giggled behind her, the same girl who always borrowed her eraser and never returned it. Mika didn't look back. She just walked.
At the gate, she saw him
her homeroom teacher, smoking even though it was forbidden. He looked older in the rain. She wondered if he remembered what it was like to be sixteen and lonely.
"Forgot your umbrella again?" he asked, while not looking at her. She nodded. He handed her his own, half-open, the ribs bent slightly on one side.
"Take it," he said.
"What about you?"
"I like the rain."
She wanted to say something maybe "me too," or maybe "you shouldn't lie"
but instead she just took the umbrella and walked away.
The rain was cold, but not painful.
She could hear every drop striking the fabric above her like tiny heartbeats.
Halfway home, she stopped under a streetlight. The umbrella smelled like cigarettes and mint gum. It was disgusting. But it was comforting too.
She closed her eyes.
For a moment, she imagined he was walking beside her saying nothing, just letting the rain fall.She didn't love him.
She just wanted someone to exist silently beside her.
The umbrella bent further in the wind, almost snapping.The girl smiled.When she got home, she left it outside, still dripping.
Her mother asked why she looked so happy.
She said,
"I think I'm starting to like the rain."