The rain had come suddenly that afternoon.

It soaked the school courtyard in minutes, sending students dashing for cover under awnings and eaves. One student, however, didn’t rush. Standing with her umbrella closed by her side, Alisa stared up at the clouds as if daring the sky to try harder.

"Even the weather is dramatic today..." she muttered under her breath in Russian. “Дождь, как в каком-то глупом романтическом аниме.” (Rain, like in some stupid romantic anime.)

From behind a pillar, You watched her, equally mesmerized and confused. You'd long learned not to comment when Alya slipped into Russian — usually because it meant she was saying something she didn’t want him to hear. But you'd also long stopped pretending you didn’t understand.

Eventually, she noticed you.

“…You’re staring again,” she said in her usual cool voice.