The next morning, the rain had cleared, leaving the world smelling of damp earth and fresh starts. Lucifer stood by the school's front gates, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He wasn't hiding behind his hood today. For the first time in weeks, his gaze was steady, watching the students trickle in.
When a splash of yellow appeared at the corner of the street, his heart did a strange, unfamiliar somersault. It was Nancy, wearing a bright scarf that matched her umbrella from the night before.
As she reached him, she didn't pass by with a polite nod. She stopped. They looked at each other—no longer searching for ghosts, but seeing the people they had become. Without a word, Lucifer reached out and took her heavy bag, slinging it over his shoulder alongside his own.
They walked through the main hallway together.
The crowded corridor, usually a blur of noise, went suddenly, unnervingly silent. The "Ice King" of Class 12 was walking side-by-side with the mysterious transfer girl. They weren't talking, but the way they moved in sync told a story everyone wanted to read.
When they entered Classroom No. 12, the chatter died down instantly. Their classmates stared, whispers erupting like wildfire.
"Since when are they friends?" "Look at his face... he's actually smiling?"
Lucifer didn't care. He walked straight to Nancy's desk, placed her bag down, and then sat in his usual spot—but this time, he turned his chair toward her.
Nancy reached into her bag and pulled out a small, worn-out drawing. It was a sketch of a sandcastle with three towers and one gate. She placed it on the corner of his desk.
"The blueprints for our next project," she whispered, her eyes dancing with mischief.
Lucifer traced the lines of the drawing, a genuine, rare smile breaking across his face. "I think the 'Chief Builder' can manage that."
The wall was gone. The strangers were friends again. But as they sat in the sunlight of the classroom, both realized that "just friends" might not be enough to cover the fifteen years they had lost.