Rain, Umbrellas, and Ordinary Days

It was raining outside. The kind of rain that makes you wonder if the sky just gave up on holding itself together. I sat alone in the classroom, waiting. It was still early, so naturally, I had the whole place to myself. (Not that I mind. Empty classrooms don’t judge you.)
Through the window, I saw a couple walking by. They were sharing an umbrella—classic. Strangely enough, I knew them. Yumi and Haruto. From the outside, they looked like the very definition of young love. (From the inside, though? Well, maybe it was just two people trying not to get wet. Perspective changes everything.)
I tilted my head up at the sky. Pitch black. It reminded me of my future. (Which, honestly, might be giving my future too much credit. At least the sky clears up eventually.)
Then the bell rang, sharp and sudden, breaking the silence. Students began to pour in, voices filling the air. And just like that, class began. Another ordinary day. (Ordinary has a way of feeling heavy sometimes.)
-------------------------------------------------------Today was Monday, which meant the first period was math. Not exactly my idea of fun, but not torture either. (Math is like lukewarm tea—you don’t hate it, but you wouldn’t order it on purpose.)
What I did look forward to, however, was Ms. Hana. Our math teacher. Beautiful, radiant, and the kind of person who could probably make even quadratic equations feel poetic.
The classroom door slid open, and instantly, the atmosphere shifted. Everyone straightened in their seats like soldiers preparing for inspection.“Good morning, Ms. Hana!” the class chorused.
“Good morning. Now, sit down,” she said with that calm, charming voice of hers.
Even such a simple greeting carried enough warmth to make the room feel brighter. (Honestly, who knew two words could sound this good? Oh man)

---------------------------------------------------------The rest of the day went by without incident. Classes blurred together, lunch came and went, and nothing particularly worth remembering happened. (In other words, it was your standard, garden-variety boring Monday.)
But as I was leaving school, I happened to glance outside. Yumi and Haruto were walking again. Only this time, they weren’t under the same umbrella. Strange.

I told myself it was probably nothing. Just a coincidence. Still, it nagged at the back of my mind.

The next morning, rain fell again. And once more, Yumi and Haruto walked past the school gates… separately, each holding their own umbrella.Something had changed. I didn’t know what, but it was there. (And the thing about change is—you don’t notice it until it’s already too late.)