The Smell of Rain
Copyright
Untold Sky Between Us © 2026 by @cherryblossom1905
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The evening sky looked undecided.
Not dark enough to rain, not clear enough to trust.
Megha stood beneath the rusted bus stop shelter with her tote bag pressed against her side as wind curled through the street in uneven bursts, carrying the smell of wet concrete before the rain had even begun.
People always said there was a certain peace before rainfall.
Megha had never understood that.
The city was loud in the evenings. Honking cars. Bike engines. Vendors shouting over one another. Somewhere nearby, oil crackled from a roadside stall while college students crowded beneath shop awnings, laughing too loudly about things that probably wouldn't matter tomorrow.
Her bus was late.
Again.
She checked the time on her phone.
6:47 PM.
A sigh escaped her quietly.
Perfect.
If she didn't finish revising constitutional law tonight, she was going to fail Professor Mehra's internal viva so horribly he might actually enjoy it.
A strand of hair brushed against her cheek in the wind. She tucked it back absently before shifting the weight of her books in her arms.
The clouds above looked heavy now.
Threatening.
Her stomach tightened a little at the distant sound of thunder.
Her phone buzzed.
Maa: Don't stay out too late again. And come straight home after studying this time.
Megha stared at the message for a second longer than necessary.
Another buzz followed immediately.
Maa: Weather looks bad.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard before locking the phone instead.
Across the road, headlights blurred softly against the growing evening haze
The air smelled more strongly of rain now.
And somehow, without understanding why, Megha suddenly had the uncomfortable feeling that something was about to change.
The library smelled faintly of old paper, coffee, and exhaustion.
Megha pushed open the heavy glass doors just as the first drop of rain hit somewhere behind her.
By the time she stepped inside properly, the drizzle had already begun.
Perfect
.
She adjusted the strap of her tote bag on her shoulder and moved past rows of occupied tables, trying not to stare at how everyone somehow looked equally miserable under fluorescent lighting.
Final exam season.The university's favorite form of psychological warfare. The soft hum of ceiling fans blended with the sound of turning pages, keyboard typing, and occasional whispered conversations from students pretending they weren't completely losing their minds.
Megha headed toward the far end of the second floor - her spot. Near the tall windows. Far enough from people to breathe.
She dropped her books onto the wooden table with a quiet thud before sinking into the chair across from it.
Constitutional law. Administrative law. Case notes. Half-highlighted pages she barely remembered reading. Her life for the next three weeks.
Outside the windows, rain slid slowly against the glass now, blurring the city lights into streaks of gold and white. Thunder rumbled somewhere far away.
Megha's hand paused mid-motion.
Just for a second.
A strange tightness curled low in her chest before she looked down quickly, uncapping her pen with more force than necessary. Around her, nobody noticed anything. Of course they didn't. To everyone else, rain was comfort. Background noise. Poetry. Warm coffee and pretty songs.
To Megha, it had always sounded different.
Heavier
.
Like something arriving. She swallowed quietly and forced herself to focus on the open notebook in front of her.
Article 32 - Right to Constitutional Remedies.
The words blurred briefly before sharpening again.
A faint flash of lightning illuminated the windows.
Her grip tightened unconsciously around the pen. Then she exhaled once, slow and controlled, like she was steadying herself against something nobody else could see.
Because deadlines didn't care about fear.
And law school certainly didn't care about the things people spent years trying to forget.
