Chapter 22 : Umbrella Confession

Rain.

Of course it was raining.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my seventeen years of breathing, it’s that the weather has a personal grudge against me.

Sunny when I don’t care. Storming when I’m stuck outside. Gentle drizzle when I’ve forgotten my umbrella—which is always.

And today? A downpour. The kind that soaks through your socks within thirty seconds, makes your textbooks smell like mildew, and reminds you that God definitely plays favorites—and I’m not one of them.

I stood under the eaves of Mishiro High, glaring at the sky like it had personally insulted my mother. Around me, classmates popped open umbrellas and paired off, chatting, laughing, hurrying home without a care in the world.

Meanwhile, I was about to make the long, wet trek to my apartment. Alone. Again.

“Ah… Kazama-kun?”

Her voice.

I turned and there she was—Asuka Minazuki-sensei, umbrella already open, holding it above her like some kind of casual painting of grace and kindness.

Great. Perfect. Exactly what I needed. To be seen in my most pathetic state by the one person who had the power to make my chest feel like a jackhammer factory.

“You forgot yours again, didn’t you?” she said with a smile that was half amusement, half pity.

I shoved my hands in my pockets. “Tch. What makes you say that?”

She tilted her head, eyes sparkling. “Because you’re glaring at the rain like it personally betrayed you.”

I scowled. Damn it. She wasn’t wrong.

Before I could come up with a decent excuse, she stepped closer and extended her umbrella toward me. “Come on. We’ll share.”

---

And just like that, I was trapped.

One second I was prepared to drown in solitude, and the next I was shoulder-to-shoulder with my homeroom teacher, squeezed under the same umbrella as the rain hammered around us.

Do you know what happens when two people walk under one umbrella? Physics. Awkward, merciless physics.

Our shoulders kept brushing. Our hands were inches apart at our sides. The faint scent of her shampoo drifted every time the wind shifted—something soft, like lavender.

My heartbeat? Let’s just say if it were audible, the entire street would assume a parade drumline was practicing inside my chest.

She glanced at me sideways, her lips curved in a teasing smile. “You really do have bad weather luck, Kazama-kun.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” I muttered, eyes fixed dead ahead.

“Or,” she added, voice lilting with mischief, “maybe you forget your umbrella on purpose. Just so you can walk with me.”

That hit harder than the rain.

I nearly tripped over a puddle. My throat dried up. My brain short-circuited.

And before I could stop myself, the words slipped out—low, gruff, almost inaudible.

“…If it means walking with you, maybe I do.”

-

She stopped. Dead in her tracks.

The umbrella tilted dangerously, rain splattering against my shoulder, but I didn’t care.

Her eyes widened, lips parted slightly, and for a moment—for one terrifying, electrifying moment—she just stared at me.

Then the faintest blush bloomed across her cheeks.

My stomach dropped. My entire soul screamed.

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. What the hell was that?!

---

Asuka looked away quickly, tightening her grip on the umbrella handle. “…Kazama-kun, you really shouldn’t say things like that.”

Her voice was soft. Shaky. Not scolding, but… almost fragile.

I shoved my hands deeper into my pockets, trying to mask the storm inside me. “Yeah, well. I say a lot of things I shouldn’t.”

We resumed walking, but the air was different now. Heavy. Charged. Every brush of our shoulders was magnified. Every step felt like a countdown to something I couldn’t name.

-

Why did I say that? Why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut like always?

Was it the rain? The closeness? The fact that I was so damn tired of pretending I didn’t care when I did?

Her words replayed in my head on loop: “Just so you can walk with me?”

And my own reply, reckless and raw.

Maybe it wasn’t a confession. Maybe it was just me being stupid. But it felt like one.

And the way she reacted—

She didn’t laugh. She didn’t tease. She didn’t get angry.

She blushed.

Which was worse. Because it meant… what if she didn’t hate the idea?

--

By the time we reached her street, the rain had softened into a drizzle. She slowed, turning to face me with that gentle smile again—but her eyes still held that faint, flustered glow.

“Thank you for walking with me, Kazama-kun,” she said.

I grunted, pretending not to care. “Wasn’t like I had a choice. Unless you wanted me to drown out there.”

She giggled softly, the sound warm against the damp air. “Still… thank you.”

And then she stepped away, the umbrella no longer shielding me. Rain hit my head instantly, cold and sharp, but I didn’t move.

I just watched her walk toward her apartment, her figure glowing faintly under the streetlight, until she disappeared from view.

Only then did I let out the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

“Damn it,” I muttered to myself. “Why’d I say that…”

But my lips curved anyway. A bitter, helpless, traitorous smile.

Because even if it was stupid… for a second there, it felt good.

It felt real.

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