Chapter 5 — AFTER SCHOOL RAIN

The sky had already turned gray by the time classes ended. A soft drizzle misted over the school grounds, not heavy enough for umbrellas, but enough to leave a shine on the pavement. Jinsei lingered at his locker longer than usual, not because he had anything important to organize, but because something in him waited—almost expectantly—for a familiar presence.

He stepped outside and saw her.

Akane stood under the awning near the school gate, her sketchbook tucked against her chest, hair slightly damp from the rain. She looked up at the sky rather than the students passing around her, as if she were studying the shape of the clouds.

When she noticed him, her expression softened. Not surprised—more like she had hoped he would show up too.

“You didn’t bring an umbrella either?” she asked.

“Didn’t think I’d need one,” he said.

She smiled faintly. “Me neither.”

They stood together beneath the narrow shelter, close but not touching. The sound of the drizzle around them made the space feel smaller, quieter—almost private, even with students passing by.

Akane opened her sketchbook again, carefully shielding it from the rain. The page showed an unfinished drawing: the same little meadow, but now with small lanterns floating above it, as if suspended from invisible threads.

Jinsei tilted his head. “You added something.”

“I thought it needed more light,” she said. “Or maybe I just wanted it to feel… alive.”

He looked at her instead of the drawing, noticing the tiny droplets clinging to her eyelashes, the way she brushed her thumb gently over the page as if she could warm the paper through touch alone.

“It feels different,” he said quietly. “Brighter.”

Akane glanced at him, her gaze steady. “Sometimes I think drawings say things I don’t know how to.”

He didn’t answer right away. She wasn’t asking for a response—just admitting something. Something honest.

The rain wasn’t stopping, so Akane let out a small breath. “Do you want to walk together? It’s not far. We’ll get wet, but… it’s fine.”

Jinsei nodded once. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

They stepped out into the rain. It wasn’t strong enough to be uncomfortable—just cold enough to make them laugh quietly at how quickly it soaked into their clothes. For a moment, their shoulders brushed, and neither moved away. The drizzle softened the world around them, leaving only their steps and the rhythm of the rain.

Halfway down the street, Akane held her sketchbook closer to him. “Hold this? Just for a minute. I don’t want it to get ruined.”

He took it gently. The cover felt warm from her hands.

She walked beside him with a kind of calm trust, as if she didn’t need to think twice about giving it to him. He glanced down at the meadow she had drawn—small, fragile, full of details she hadn’t mentioned.

“You draw like you’re trying to remember somewhere you’ve never been,” he said without thinking.

Akane blinked, surprised. Then her lips curved into a quiet, uncertain smile. “Maybe I am.”

Their eyes met, brief but deeper than anything they had said so far.

By the time they reached the place where their paths separated, the rain had softened to almost nothing. Jinsei handed her the sketchbook, careful not to smudge the page.

“Thanks,” she said softly.

He nodded. “See you tomorrow.”

She hesitated, looking up at him with a small, warm expression—something like recognition. Something like understanding.

“Yeah,” she said. “Tomorrow.”

Akane walked away, her footsteps light. Jinsei stood there a moment longer, watching the droplets gather on the pavement, thinking about the lanterns hovering above her meadow.

Something had changed today. Not loudly. Not obviously.
But enough that he felt it—quiet as rain, soft as a sketch on a page.