The box grew heavier the farther she walked, not because of its weight, but because of what it carried.
Evah's hazel eyes dropped to another photograph clinging damply to the side. Her breath caught when she recognized the faces—her old circle of friends.
The memory hit harder than the rain.
"Come on, Evah! It's the weekend!" one of them had said brightly, tugging at her arm.
"You're not really going to spend another Friday night at work, are you?" another had teased, their laughter light and infectious.
They had begged her to come out, to share a drink, to laugh like they used to.
But she had stayed behind, her desk lit only by the pale glow of her computer.
The next morning, a letter had arrived. Inside was a photo of them at an amusement park, all smiles and linked arms.
Without her.
I never kept my promises, did I?
Her grip tightened on the photo until the paper crinkled. The truth stung more than the cold rain. I don't even remember when they stopped inviting me. Or when they stopped calling.
She blinked against the water streaming down her cheeks. It wasn't the rain.
Only one person had stayed.
Only Yuka.
That thought was a frail comfort, but it kept her moving.
Her boots tapped softly against the slick pavement as she slipped the photo back into the soggy box. That was when she noticed a sliver of blue poking out from the corner. Curious, she reached for it and pulled free a small card tied with a thin ribbon.
Her throat tightened. It was a wedding invitation.
The name printed in neat calligraphy made her heart twist. A coworker she had once shared late-night coffee with, who had always said, "Let's survive this place together."
She's getting married? Evah thought numbly. I didn't even know.
Her mind replayed the earlier conversation at work, Erika's glowing face as she mentioned her pregnancy. A baby. A family. A new chapter.
And here she was, standing in the rain with nothing but a box of regrets.
What about me? she asked herself. What's changed since graduation?
The answer came too easily. Nothing.
Her body felt heavier as she continued down the path, cutting through the city park. The rain softened into a steady drizzle, the lamplight shimmering across the wet pavement like fractured glass.
The air smelled of damp earth and faint perfume as couples walked past her, umbrellas tilted close together, their voices hushed in laughter.
She slowed her pace, unable to tear her eyes away.
Two girls walked hand in hand, their cheeks red from the chill, but their smiles radiant. A man leaned down to whisper into his partner's ear, her soft giggle carrying into the air like a bell. Another couple stopped beneath a tree, their foreheads pressed together, oblivious to the world.
Evah froze.
It was beautiful.
Painfully beautiful.
Her chest ached as though the sight alone might tear it open. Their joy felt so simple, so natural. And yet, it was something she had never touched.
Her umbrella tilted back as she looked up into the rain, letting the droplets pepper her face. Cool water trickled down her skin, a poor substitute for the warmth she longed for.
How does it feel to be kissed? The thought escaped unbidden. How does it feel to be held like that? To know there's someone who actually… cares?
She had seen it countless times in movies—two people sharing a kiss beneath the rain, a picture-perfect moment of passion. But for her, it had always been a fantasy behind glass, unreachable.
The city moved around her, alive with love, while she stood alone like a ghost in the rain.
She hugged the box closer, though it did little to shield her from the hollow growing inside. The laughter of a passing couple echoed too loudly in her ears, sharp and cruel against her solitude.
Her lips trembled.
The rain blurred her vision again, but this time, she didn't bother to wipe it away.
Her thoughts spiraled deeper, darker, until—
Splash.
She stiffened.
It wasn't her.
The sound came from behind, the deliberate rhythm of heavy footsteps splashing through puddles. Too slow to be a jogger. Too steady to be a drunk wandering home.
Her pulse quickened.
The park, which had moments ago felt alive with warmth, now seemed distant, hollow. The laughter faded as couples drifted farther away, leaving Evah standing alone under the dim glow of the lamppost.
She dared a glance over her shoulder.
Darkness stretched between the trees, the wet path glistening faintly. For a second, she thought she saw movement. A shadow shifting.
Her breath hitched. She clutched the box tighter.
The footsteps grew louder. Closer.
Splash.
Splash.
Splash.
Her umbrella trembled in her grip, her knuckles pale.
Next Chapter: As Erion blends into the busy market area, the chase intensifies, with enemies closing in from all sides. Using his skill in evasion and a high-tech cloak device, he navigates through tight spaces, avoiding capture. But as time runs out, he finds himself in a lovers' park, desperate to escape. Just as he prepares to disappear into the crowd, his path crosses with a woman carrying a box, whose life is unknowingly tied to the same mission.