The rain showed no sign of calming.
Water streaked down the bus windows in frantic rivers, blurring the outside world into muted grays and shifting shadows. The bus rattled with every gust of wind, and students whispered nervously whenever thunder cracked overhead.
Beside Elian, the boy sat unusually still, his fingers tapping lightly against his bag in a rhythm—fast, anxious, trying to look calm but failing.
Elian wasn't sure why he noticed so much about him. Maybe it was the closeness forced by the storm. Maybe it was the way his warning had sounded so genuine. Or maybe it was the faint lavender scent that kept drifting toward him, subtle but grounding.
Finally, the boy turned to him again.
"Um…" He hesitated.
"I didn't catch your name earlier."
Elian blinked, taken off guard. He parted his lips, but before he could speak, the bus lurched violently over a pothole. He instinctively grabbed the seat in front of him—and the boy grabbed him.
A steadying hand on his forearm. Warm, gentle, lingering just a moment too long. The bus steadied. Elian's racing heart… didn't. The boy blinked and quickly pulled his hand back.
"Sorry! I didn't mean— I just— the bus moved so suddenly—"
His cheeks flushed pink. Elian shook his head, breathless for reasons he did not understand.
"…It's okay."
A beat.
Then softly: "I'm Elian."
The boy repeated the name under his breath, as if testing how it felt.
"…Elian."
A small smile formed on his lips.
"That's a nice name."
Elian's chest tightened.
He didn't know why such simple words hit so deeply—maybe because most people said his name with recognition, expectation, or awe… But this boy said it like it was just a name.
Just him.
He hesitated, then asked:
And you…?"
The boy blinked. Then straightened a little, as if preparing for something important.
"Juni."
His tone softened.
"My name is Juni."
Elian repeated it quietly.
Once.
Twice.
Letting the syllables settle in his mind.
Juni.
A name that felt light, warm, and strangely familiar.
When the bus finally arrived at their stop, the rain was still heavy, thundering against the pavement. Students groaned, pulling out umbrellas or jackets. Several stayed seated, hoping the rain would calm.
Juni stood slowly, shouldering his worn bag, then glanced at Elian.
"Do you have an umbrella?"
Elian shook his head. His family had packed nearly everything last night—he forgot one. Juni bit his lip, hesitating, then made a brave decision he instantly seemed to regret. He held out his umbrella.
"We can… share."
Elian stared in shock. Juni's umbrella was small—barely enough for one person.
"…Are you sure?" Elian asked.
"Unless you want to get drenched," Juni said with a small, shy smile.
Elian felt heat rush to his ears.
They stepped off the bus together, shoulder pressed tightly against shoulder, the umbrella barely covering them from the pouring rain.
Juni's knuckles brushed Elian's.
Once.
Twice.
And neither moved away.
Every raindrop felt louder. Every breath felt warmer. The storm didn't matter anymore. Not when Elian found himself wishing the walk were just a little longer.