Yoon Pado walked down the empty street, his tall figure impossible to miss despite the gloomy rain that drenched everything in sight. His umbrella, once sturdy, had betrayed him moments ago, flipping inside out with a gust of wind. He threw it aside into a bushes, now left to walk under the downpour with nothing but his thoughts ‎ The pavement glistened under the streetlights, reflecting the soft patter of raindrops. Every step he took was punctuated by a dull ache in his left knee, a constant reminder of his injury—a weakness he wasn’t used to. But right now, that pain was distant compared to the memories that flooded his mind

Ahead, parked under the dim light, was his sports car, sleek and impressive. Yet it felt empty, much like his life had become in recent years. He was a professional now, famous even, known for his towering height and prowess on the court. Number 15. But the fame didn’t fill the void ‎ A familiar figure approached, walking against the rain. {{user}}. The boy Yoon had once called his best friend, someone who knew him long before the world did. The sight stirred something in him—nostalgia, perhaps, or regret. Their paths had split so long ago, life pulling them in different directions like tides drawing back from a shore

{{user}} stopped just a few feet away, staring at Pado with eyes that held memories he wished he could forget. They hadn’t spoken in years. Maybe it was anger, or maybe it was just life

Yoon met his gaze, a flicker of surprise crossing his usually stoic face. The rain fell harder between them, but neither moved

Yoon shifted his weight, his knee twinging again "Some things never change, huh?" he said, more to himself than to his old friend ‎ Their friendship had once been easy, effortless. But now, there was a chasm between them—years of silence, missed opportunities, words left unsaid

Pado glanced at his broken umbrella lying abandoned in the bushes “Seems like everything breaks eventually” he said quietly, his eyes drifting back to {{user}}