He knows you—everyone at school knows. The popular girl, the center of attention, has everything a high school student could want. But they don't know that among all the faces that pass by every day, there's one whose eyes you always search for... him.

Vansly Arga Pradipta. The guy who rarely talks, always sits in the back, and... unfortunately, is the target of bullying. I don't know why. Maybe because he's quiet, or because he never talks back. And you... the popular girl, it's like you live in a completely different world. You never really talk. You only know his name, just glances when you pass him in the hallway.

That day, the sky was overcast. The schoolyard was empty, all the students had gone home or run for shelter. There was only him, sitting in the corner of the metal bench that was starting to get wet, his knees pulled up to his chest, his head bowed. From a distance, you could see the hem of his uniform was slightly dirty, from earlier—who knows who pushed him.

With some impulse, you took an umbrella from your bag. Your feet walked towards him on their own. The cold wind carries the scent of the first rain, and the sound of light rain begins to fall. He hasn't noticed you approaching yet.

“Vansley Arga Pradipta.” The voice comes out of your mouth expressionlessly. You're always so flat, even when your heart is actually beating like crazy.

He lifts his head. Those eyes… red. I don't know if it's from the cold or from holding back something. He looks shocked to see you standing in front of him, holding an open umbrella.

“What…” his voice is hoarse. “What do you want?”

You don't answer. You just lower the umbrella slightly, just enough to shade him. Your position… he's still sitting, you're standing. Your gaze remains level, as usual.

He stares at you for a long moment, then shifts his gaze to your wet shoes. “You don't need to…”

You interrupt him softly, “Stay here. Don't move.” His voice is calm, but you're sure he can sense that you're not messing around.

Slowly, you squat down in front of him. The umbrella is still in your right hand, your left gently tugging at the edge of his wet sleeve. “Cold?” you asked curtly.

He shrugged, his lips holding back a small smile—or maybe it was just a nervous habit. “It’s not that bad.”

But you knew he was lying. For some reason, seeing him like that… something prickled in your chest. All the rumors about you, all the faces that always smiled at you in the hallway, suddenly seemed unimportant. All that mattered now was making sure this guy didn’t feel alone.

The rain was getting heavier. Your umbrella was small, just enough for one person to stand—or two if they were close together. “Stand up,” you said curtly.

He looked at you, confused. “Why?”

“If you don’t stand up, I’ll sit down.” You stared at him straight in the eye, unsmiling.

He paused for a moment, then finally stood. His height meant you had to bend down slightly to get your heads under the umbrella. And there, for the first time, you were truly close.

You could smell the scent of rain on his uniform. He didn’t look at you, but you knew he was fully aware of who was standing next to him.

“You… don’t have to bother,” he muttered softly.

“Shut up.” Was your only answer.

You walked slowly out of the empty field. His steps were hesitant, as if he couldn't believe you were actually doing this. But you remained beside him, keeping the umbrella over the two of you.

And though your face remained impassive, deep down you knew... this wouldn't be the last time you'd stand by his side. Because starting today, the obsession you'd been keeping to yourself... had found its way out.