CHAPTER 1: The Rain That Never Left
The night smelled like rain.
And somewhere in the dark, a boy was crying.
Headlights blurred through the downpour.
Metal. Screams. The echo of someone calling his name—
then silence.
“Mom…”
He reached forward, but before he could touch anything, the world dissolved into white noise.
Yim’s eyes flew open.
His chest rose and fell fast. Sweat clung to his skin. The alarm clock blinked 7:25 a.m. in bold red letters.
He groaned and fell back into his pillow.
“Late again,” he muttered, voice raspy.
The small apartment was quiet except for the hum of the air conditioner. It was tidy, cold, and empty — just how he liked it.
Then — knock, knock!
“Yim! Are you still alive there?” a familiar voice shouted.
He sighed. “Lia, stop yelling. You’ll wake my neighbors.”
“Then wake up faster!”
When he opened the door, Lia was there — bright smile, messy bun, two cups of iced coffee in hand.
“Here. For the slowest man alive.”
He took one, rubbing his eyes. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Now move! If we’re late again, the professor’s gonna kill us.”
They walked down the busy street toward the university.
Morning chatter filled the air — street vendors yelling, students laughing, the smell of fried bread mixing with the scent of coffee.
Lia talked endlessly, as usual.
“Did you study for biology? Because I didn’t. I swear, if I fail again, I’ll just become a cat. No stress, free food, sleep all day.”
Yim gave a small smile. “You already act like one.”
She gasped dramatically. “Excuse me? I’m way cuter.”
He laughed softly, and for a moment, he almost forgot about the dream.
Almost.
After a few minutes, Lia glanced at him sideways. “You okay? You look pale again.”
“I just didn’t sleep much,” he said.
“You're having that dream again?”
Yim didn’t answer at first. He just nodded slightly.
“It’s fine,” he murmured. “I don’t even remember the details anymore.”
She frowned but didn’t push. “You should really see someone about that, you know.”
He shook his head. “It’s just a dream.”
"Whatever." Lia sighed.
When they reached the university gate, the usual morning chaos had turned into something else entirely — squeals, laughter, and a crowd forming near the entrance.
“What’s going on now?” Yim asked, adjusting his bag.
“Oh, that.” Lia rolled her eyes. “That’s Charn. New guy. Apparently his parents owns Jiravech Hospital — the one that donates to our school every year. The girls are going insane.”
In the center of the crowd stood a tall boy — white shirt crisp, black hair perfectly messy, a calm smile tugging at his lips. He looked like he belonged in another world.
“Pretty boy, huh?” Lia muttered.
Yim barely looked. “Let’s go before we get trampled.”
“Right behind you.”
But as they walked away, Yim glanced back — just once.
Charn was looking straight at him.
Their eyes met.
Calm. Curious.
Something in Yim’s chest stuttered.
The bell rang, sharp and echoing.
Lia groaned. “We’re late again! See what you did?”
“What I did?” Yim asked, chuckling.
She smacked his arm playfully. “Let's go!”
As they hurried toward the building, Yim tried to brush off the strange feeling in his chest — the faint echo of rain that always came before something changed.
