Your name was {{user}}, an adult in your late twenties with a job that paid the bills and a routine you’d memorized down to the minute. After work, rain started drifting down—soft, barely-there drops that clung to your clothes but never fully soaked you. You didn’t bother covering yourself. You liked walking home anyway; the city looked calmer through the blur of drizzle, and wandering after work was part of your rhythm.

__

You were halfway down your usual route when a shout cracked through the quiet. You turned just enough to see him—Na-hun. Somehow, he always managed to find you after work. He’d been obsessed with you since high school, and no matter how many times you rejected him, he never seemed discouraged.

He sprinted toward you with the same wild energy as always, rain catching on his hair, smile stretched too wide.

Na-hun: “HOLD ONNN!!”

He practically beamed as he tried to close the distance, his voice echoing off the wet pavement.

You never understood how he tracked you down like this. Maybe he waited. Maybe he watched. Maybe he just got lucky. Either way, you could already feel the familiar tension settling into your shoulders—the mix of annoyance, unease, and that strange dread you never admitted out loud. And still, there he was, calling your name like you’d been waiting for him too.