Chapter 1 Rain
The classroom feels like a scene straight out of Korea — posters on the walls, unfamiliar faces everywhere. I sit alone among strangers, and the only familiar thing in the room is the Korean textbook spread open in front of me.
Then a girl stands up. “Let’s get some air,” she says.
From across the table, a boy calls my name.
“Na Mi. Come with us.”
I didn’t want to go. But something in his voice made it impossible to say no. It always does, with him.
Outside, the rain has already turned heavy — pouring down like someone tipped over the sky. I’d walked out in just a thin shirt and no jacket. He noticed immediately.
“Put something on. You’ll freeze,” he said. Once. Twice. Maybe more.
I heard him. I just didn’t listen. A small irritation bloomed in my chest, and I walked ahead anyway, pretending not to care.
I ran after the girl, but she was already gone — swallowed by the rain. So I just kept walking. Getting soaked on purpose. Maybe I was a little hurt that he’d made me come out here at all. Maybe drenching myself in the downpour was the only way I knew how to show it.
Eventually, I came back inside.
Wet. Tired. I sat down in my chair and somewhere between one breath and the next — I fell asleep.
I don’t know how much time passed.
Then I felt it.
Someone gently stroking my hair.
I didn’t open my eyes. I didn’t need to.
I already knew.
Him.
…
I felt his hand move softly through my hair and I kept my eyes shut — because the moment I opened them, he’d stop. And I wasn’t ready for that yet.
“Next time…” his voice came low, almost a whisper. “Don’t run away.”
…
When I finally opened my eyes, the classroom was quiet.
The rain had stopped.
And he was gone.
But on the desk, a small folded note waited for me. I picked it up.
“Next time, I won’t wait for you.”
