The sky over Nanhai City had been gray since morning, the kind of muted, heavy gray that felt like a held breath. By the time the last class ended, distant thunder rolled somewhere above the buildings, low and half-asleep, as if deciding whether or not to ruin everyone's evening.
Students groaned when they saw the sky darken; some ran to the windows to check if rain had started.
Inside Class 2A, Li Yichen packed his books with practiced precision. His bag was always neat, everything arranged so he could find it instantly. He slid his physics notebook into the side pocket, zipped the bag, and paused only when he heard a familiar—unwelcome—voice behind him.
"Hey. You walk home this way too, right?"
Zhao Rui.
Of course.
Yichen didn't look up. "I walk fast."
Zhao Rui leaned against the desk beside him, balancing on the edge with effortless casualness. "I can walk fast."
"You can't," Yichen said flatly.
Zhao Rui grinned. "Wanna test it?"
"No."
"Afraid to lose?"
"I don't participate in pointless competitions."
Zhao Rui laughed, the sound bright in the quieting classroom. A few girls packing up nearby glanced over, whispering behind their hands.
He ignored them completely, eyes fixed on Yichen with that maddening attention that felt too direct, too warm, too knowing.
Yichen ignored him, pushing in his chair and heading for the door.
But by the time he reached the hallway, the first drops began to fall—soft, hesitant taps against the windows that grew louder, faster, merging into a steady sheet of sound. Within seconds, rain poured in thick silver lines across the courtyard, blurring the distant buildings.
A collective moan rose from the hallway.
"We're gonna get soaked!"
"Why didn't it rain earlier?"
"I didn't bring an umbrella…"
Yichen stopped near the entrance of the building. Students crowded under the overhang, waiting for the rain to slow. A few braver ones attempted a dash to the gate, only to run back squealing, soaked within seconds.
Yichen stood quietly, watching the rain. His expression didn't change, but his shoulders lowered by the tiniest degree. He didn't like delays. He didn't like unpredictability.
He also didn't like crowds.
Zhao Rui appeared beside him—not out of breath, not rushed, simply arriving as if he belonged there.
"You have an umbrella?" Zhao Rui asked.
"Yes."
"Wow. Responsible citizen."
"It's called preparation," Yichen replied.
Zhao Rui leaned forward a little, glancing at the umbrella handle peeking out from Yichen's bag. "Looks small."
"It's enough for one person."
"That's the problem."
Yichen frowned. "What do you mean?"
Zhao Rui nodded toward the outside world. "I didn't bring one."
"That is not my problem."
"Sure it is," Zhao Rui said immediately, as if the logic was obvious.
"No, it isn't."
Zhao Rui tilted his head. "You're really going to let your new classmate drown?"
"You won't drown."
"I could."
"From rain?"
"It's possible," Zhao Rui said, completely serious. "People slip, hit their heads—boom, gone."
Yichen blinked. "Your imagination is unnecessarily dramatic."
"So you do worry."
"I don't."
"You do."
"I don't."
"Then let's walk together."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because you're loud."
Zhao Rui pressed a hand to his chest. "I can be quiet."
"You can't."
"I can."
"You lasted three minutes," Yichen reminded him.
Zhao Rui winced. "Okay, fair. But I'll do better."
Yichen closed his eyes and breathed out slowly. "You're impossible."
"Thanks."
"That wasn't a compliment."
"Still taking it as one."
The rain continued pouring, relentless and cold. Students began calling their parents or messaging group chats asking for someone to bring umbrellas.
Zhao Rui didn't make a single call.
He just stood there, hands in pockets, chin lifted slightly as he watched the rain like he was waiting for someone.
Yichen realized—with a sinking feeling—that the person Zhao Rui was waiting for…
was him.
After a long minute of pretending not to look, Yichen finally said, "If we share, you must stay dry on your own."
Zhao Rui blinked. "How would that work?"
"You're taller. You can angle yourself."
"So you're saying I should sacrifice myself?"
"I didn't say sacrifice."
"But you implied it."
Yichen didn't answer.
Because he had implied it.
Zhao Rui's mouth tugged up slowly—not his usual grin, but something softer, more controlled. It made his eyes warmer somehow, deeper in color.
"Alright," he said quietly. "I'll get wet."
Yichen stiffened.
He hadn't expected him to agree that easily.
He pulled the umbrella from his bag, opened it, and stepped just barely into the rain. Zhao Rui moved instantly, one smooth motion, slipping under the umbrella beside him.
Too close.
Yichen tensed as their shoulders brushed. Zhao Rui hadn't done anything yet, but his presence radiated heat—warmth that Yichen wasn't used to, warmth that made him want to step away even though he didn't.
Zhao Rui tilted the umbrella more toward him.
Too much.
The right half of Zhao Rui's shoulder was already being hit by raindrops.
"That's uneven," Yichen said quietly.
"You said I'd handle myself."
"I didn't mean like that." Yichen frowned and adjusted the umbrella, angling it so they were both mostly covered. Mostly.
Their hands accidentally grazed on the umbrella handle.
Yichen froze.
Zhao Rui, shockingly, didn't tease him. Didn't laugh. Didn't make a comment.
He simply kept walking beside him—close enough that their steps naturally aligned.
The rain drummed steadily, loud enough to blur the world. The narrow space under the umbrella felt strangely intimate, like they were cut off from everything else.
A small splash sounded when Zhao Rui stepped into a shallow puddle.
"You walk fast," he said lightly.
"You're tall."
"So I should slow down to match you?"
"You don't need to match anything," Yichen said quickly.
"But I want to."
The words were soft. Too soft. Deliberate.
Yichen looked straight ahead, refusing to let his heartbeat react.
"You're making this difficult."
"Sharing an umbrella?"
"No. You."
Zhao Rui blinked, then laughed quietly. "Good. You make things difficult for me too."
"That's not good."
"Maybe not for you."
Another laugh. Softer than usual. It curled in the air between them, warm even through the cold rain.
When they reached the intersection by the convenience store, the rain suddenly strengthened, hitting the umbrella hard enough to make the fabric tremble. Without thinking, Yichen stepped closer to avoid getting splashed.
Zhao Rui went still.
Then—
"Careful," he said, voice lower now, almost gentle.
He shifted the umbrella so it covered Yichen more, letting the rain hit his own arm freely. Droplets ran down his sleeve, soaking into the fabric.
"You're getting wet," Yichen said.
"It's fine."
"It's not."
"You're more important."
Yichen's breath caught.
"Academically," Zhao Rui added quickly, saving himself with a grin. "Top student shouldn't catch a cold, right?"
Yichen stared at him for a second too long.
Zhao Rui looked away first.
The rain finally softened when they reached the street where their paths diverged. The noise of the storm faded to a soft drizzle.
"This is where we split," Yichen said, handing him the umbrella handle. "You can take it."
Zhao Rui shook his head. "You keep it. You'll need it tomorrow."
"You are soaked."
Zhao Rui shrugged, droplets sliding off his hair. "I dry fast."
"That's impossible."
"Test it tomorrow."
Yichen didn't know why that made his ears warm.
Zhao Rui stepped back a little, outside the umbrella's reach, letting the rain fall on him freely.
He raised a hand, waving lazily.
"See you tomorrow, Li Yichen."
Something in Yichen tightened—an odd pull, uncomfortable yet familiar, like the feeling right before a storm breaks.
"…See you," he whispered.
Zhao Rui grinned, bright even in the dim light of the storm, and jogged off into the rain.
Yichen stood there longer than he needed to, watching the fading shape of the boy who—without permission—had stepped into his ordered world and left behind ripples.
The rain finally stopped.
But the warmth lingering in Yichen's chest didn't.