The rain in the city didn't fall; it crashed. It hammered against the university windows with a rhythmic insistence, as if trying to erase whatever lay inside.
Renji Sato had always thought water was clean, but here, mixed with soot and asphalt, it only made everything shine with an oily filth. He adjusted his gray scarf until it covered his chin. It was a useless gesture. He knew that no matter how much he hid beneath the wool, his eyes betrayed his fear.
He walked down the hallway of the Humanities building, books pressed tight against his chest. They were his armor, his shield, his only barrier between himself and the world. His knuckles were white from gripping them so hard.
"Hey, look who's here. The Faculty Princess."
The voice came from the right, loaded with that despisable familiarity only possessed by those who believe they own the territory. Renji didn't need to look up to know who it was. Kenji. Captain of the Kendo team, heir to a hotel chain, and owner of a smile that never reached his eyes.
Renji quickened his pace. His soft-soled shoes made barely a sound on the linoleum. *If I don't look at them, if I don't exist for them, maybe they'll let me pass.*
But the universe didn't run on wishes. An arm extended, blocking the path. Kenji leaned against the metal lockers, occupying all the visual space. Two of his friends flanked the scene, smiling with that cruel complicity of the pack.
"I spoke to you, Sato," Kenji said, leaning in slightly. His shadow covered Renji. "Do mutes get top marks too? How unfair."
"Let me pass, Kenji," Renji murmured. His voice came out finer than he would have liked. He hated that voice. He hated how it trembled.
"Or what?" Kenji laughed, a dry sound. "Are you going to cry? Come on, do it. They say your eyelashes are longer than the first-year girls'. I want to see if it's true."
One of Kenji's friends reached out to touch his hair. Renji flinched instinctively, squeezing his eyes shut. He waited for the pull, the mockery, the public humiliation that would end up in blurry photos in anonymous chat groups. *Don't cry. Don't cry. If you cry, they win.*
The contact never came.
Instead, there was a sound. The soft zip of a folder closing.
"Student Regulation, Article 45, Section C," said a voice from the back of the hallway.
It was a flat voice. Without emotion. Like reading a grocery list.
The three aggressors turned. Renji opened his eyes, confused.
Sitting on a wooden bench, almost hidden by a concrete pillar, was a boy. Renji had seen him before in Contemporary Literature class. Always in the back row. Always alone. Haru. He didn't remember his surname. No one did. He was like part of the classroom furniture.
Haru stood up slowly. He wasn't imposing. He had average height, wore black-rimmed glasses, and a worn beige jacket. But when he walked toward them, the air in the hallway seemed to grow heavier.
"What did you say, ghost?" Kenji growled, letting go of Renji to face the newcomer.
Haru stopped two meters away. He didn't look Kenji in the eyes; he looked slightly over his shoulder, as if evaluating a variable in an equation.
"I said that Article 45 covers systematic harassment," Haru repeated, adjusting his glasses with his index finger. "And that the university has security cameras at every hallway intersection. Even this one."
He pointed upward, toward the black dome of a camera installed in the corner. Kenji looked up, hesitating.
"Furthermore," Haru continued, with that exasperating calm, "Professor Yamada recorded the last oral exam. Sato's grades are verified by audio recording. Accusing him of cheating without proof is defamation. If you want to take this to the administration, I can accompany you right now. I have time."
The silence that followed was dense. Kenji clenched his fists, evaluating the situation. It wasn't a fight of strength; it was a logical trap. If he hit Haru, he had witnesses. If he continued with Renji, there was a risk of expulsion.
"Tch. Boring," Kenji spat, stepping aside. "Not worth getting my hands dirty with freaks."
He snapped his fingers, and his friends followed him, disappearing down the main hallway. The laughter faded gradually, leaving them alone in the echo of the building.
Renji remained motionless. His legs trembled. The relief didn't come all at once; it came with nausea, with the adrenaline crash that made you feel dizzy.
Haru didn't approach immediately. He respected the space. He crouched down and picked something up from the floor. A blue pen. The one Renji had dropped when he flinched.
He approached and held it out.
"Take it."
Renji hesitated. His fingers brushed against Haru's. They were cold, but dry. Steady.
"T-thanks..." Renji managed to say. He looked down, unable to hold that calm scrutiny. "You didn't have to... step in. Now they'll hate you too."
Haru straightened up. He put his hands in his pants pockets.
"I don't care if they hate me. Hate is predictable."
Renji blinked. That answer made no common sense. No one spoke like that.
"Why did you do it?" Renji asked, looking up for the first time.
Haru's eyes were dark, almost black, but there was no emptiness in them. There was attention. A complete attention that made Renji feel naked, but not in the shameful way he was used to.
"Because it was illogical," Haru said simply. "Your intelligence is a valuable resource for this faculty. Damaging that resource is stupid."
Renji felt a sting in his chest. Just because of that? Because of logic? He should have felt disappointed, but strangely, that coldness seemed more honest than any warm pity.
"I'm Renji," he said, out of inertia.
"I know. I know who you are, Renji."
The way he said his name... without mockery, without hidden sexual desire, without condescension. Just as a fact.
Haru looked at his wristwatch.
"It's going to rain harder. Do you have an umbrella?"
Renji shook his head, gripping his books.
"I forgot it."
"I have one. It's large."
Haru didn't wait for an answer. He opened his backpack and took out a black umbrella, long, one of the old-fashioned ones. He opened it with a dry snap.
"I'll walk you to the exit. Kenji's group usually patrols the main door at this time. It's better to use the service exit from the Records Department."
Renji looked at him, surprised. Had he planned this? Or did he simply know the university's patterns better than anyone?
"How do you know that?"
Haru began to walk, holding the umbrella slightly tilted toward Renji's side, even though they hadn't gone outside yet.
"I observe. It's a habit. Are you coming?"
Renji hesitated for a second. His instinct told him to leave, to isolate himself, to owe nothing to anyone. But the hallway behind him was dark, and the hallway where Haru was going had a dim light at the end.
He took a step. Then another. He placed himself under the space Haru offered him. He smelled rain, old paper, and a very soft soap, like green tea.
They walked in silence through the secondary corridors. Renji felt the heat of Haru's shoulder inches from his own. It was the first time in months he had walked beside someone and didn't feel the need to flee.
Upon reaching the service door, the noise of the storm was deafening. Haru stopped before opening it.
"Renji."
"Yes?"
Haru turned. For the first time, his neutral expression cracked slightly. A fraction of a second.
"You aren't what they say. Not even close."
Renji felt his throat close up. He nodded, unable to speak.
Haru pushed the door. The wind hit the umbrella.
"Let's go."
They went out into the rain. Renji walked glued to him, protected under that black roof. As they advanced toward the bus stop, Renji put his hand in his jacket pocket to take out his phone.
The screen lit up with a new message. Unknown number.
*"I thought you'd be broken by now. What a disappointment. Someone is helping you... Who is he?"*
Renji stopped dead. Water splashed his shoes.
"What's wrong?" Haru asked, noticing he had fallen behind. He turned the umbrella to cover him again.
Renji turned off the screen quickly and put the phone away. The fear returned, but this time it was different. It was no longer just the fear of mockery. It was the fear that someone was watching from the shadows, much closer than he thought.
He looked at Haru, who waited for him under the rain, imperturbable.
"Nothing," Renji lied, his voice barely a thread. "Just... thanks. For the umbrella."
Haru studied him for a moment. His eyes narrowed slightly behind the glass of his glasses. He knew it was a lie. But he didn't question it.
"Get on the bus. I'll send you a message when you get home."
"You have my number?"
"I wrote it down from the attendance list weeks ago."
Haru didn't smile. But there was something in the way he held the umbrella, tilting it more toward Renji until the left shoulder of his own jacket was completely soaked, that told Renji he wasn't alone.
The bus arrived with a screech of brakes. Renji climbed the steps and turned around before the doors closed.
Haru was still there. Standing under the storm. Alone. Watching him leave.
As the bus pulled away, Renji leaned his forehead against the cold glass. The message in his pocket vibrated again. But for the first time, the warmth of Haru's wet shoulder weighed more than the fear in his chest.
Something had changed. The glass had cracked, and for the first time, someone had managed to reach through to hold him from the other side.