That morning, the weather was terrible.
Heavy black clouds pressed down on the sky like a sheet of cloth dyed in ink, and rain kept falling without pause—thin strands, steady and endless, as if the world itself were quietly weeping.
The smell of mud, stagnant water, and rain-soaked concrete blended together into something strangely distinct.
Buildings lined both sides of the street—gray office blocks, convenience stores with flickering neon lights, billboards soaked so thoroughly the letters had begun to blur. People passed each other under eaves or umbrellas. Some hurried. Some kept their heads down, dodging the rain. No one looked at the sky. No one bothered looking at anyone else.
Everyone was busy playing the main character in their own scene.
At the intersection in front of the school, the traffic light blinked red, reflecting off the wet asphalt like a mirror.
I stood there with my school bag slung over my shoulder, the black notebook tucked into my chest pocket. Raindrops clung to my hair, and even my glasses couldn't escape the mist, their lenses faintly reflecting the streetlights.
Beside me stood a girl from my class. I wasn't entirely sure of her name. She held up her umbrella as droplets slid down the hem of her uniform. She looked up at the crossing signal—
and then, every so often, glanced sideways at me.
[Okay. One audience member acquired.]
[Already in frame.]
Honestly, I didn't know her name back then.
But I knew that look.
It was the look of someone watching me.
The sound of rain.Engines.Shoes splashing through puddles on the pavement.
All of it layered together into a perfectly timed symphony.
I spoke, as if delivering a line that had already been written—a piece of dialogue carefully prepared in advance.
"Hey."
Just that single word was enough to draw her attention. She flinched slightly, then turned to look at me.
"If you're driving," I said,"and there's a child and an old man in front of you…"
Raindrops slid down my hair, dripped from my bangs, and splashed against my shoulder in thin streams.
"What do you think you should step on in a situation like that?"
The moment my voice ended, it felt as though the entire world had paused to listen.
Voices rose around us.
A child and an elderly man stepped onto the crosswalk, their umbrellas tilted slightly in the wind.
The lead car was moving too fast on the rain-slick road.
[One second… the driver has noticed. He'll hit the brakes in 0.235 seconds.Distance and stopping time calculated—he'll make it.]
I stepped forward.
Water sprayed up from the pavement as I extended my right hand, palm facing the car at the perfect angle, lined up precisely with the hood.
At the same instant, the brakes engaged.The wheels slowed.Water burst upward in a thin mist, as if the world itself were trying to enhance the coolness of the scene.
Headlights reflected through my lenses.
With my left hand, I removed my glasses.
"The answer…"
"…is to step on the brakes."
Rain should have drowned out everything.
But that line reached exactly one person.
On the sidewalk beside me, the girl stood frozen, her eyes shining.
In her eyes, I was no longer just an ordinary student.
And damn it—looks like I'd planted a flag again.
Can't be helped.My handsomeness is beyond my control.Truly troublesome.
[Perfect. The reflection angle and the raindrops just now—absolutely flawless.]