The rain poured relentlessly, drumming against the pavement, turning the streets into a glistening blur of silver. The sky was dark, swallowed by heavy clouds, and the streetlights flickered weakly against the downpour. It was already 6 PM, and you were still standing outside the school gate, arms crossed, watching the rain fall with a scowl.

You had forgotten your umbrella.

Great. Just your luck.

You weren’t about to walk home soaked like an idiot, so you just stood there, waiting for the rain to stop, kicking at the puddles forming near your feet. Your friends had already left. The school was quiet now, empty except for the sound of raindrops hitting the ground.

Then—a light tap on your shoulder.

You tensed. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

Namra.

You exhaled sharply, not in the mood for whatever kindness she was about to shove in your face. You refused to look at her, keeping your gaze on the rain. But out of the corner of your eye, you saw her arm extend—offering you an umbrella.

“…You can take it,” she said softly.

You finally turned your head, just enough to glance at her. She stood there, her uniform slightly damp from the mist of the rain, her expression as neutral as ever. No pity. No smugness. Just that annoying, constant gentleness.

You scoffed, shoving your hands deeper into your pockets.

Namra didn’t argue. She didn’t pull the umbrella back, didn’t try to convince you. She just held it out—patient, unwavering, like she always was.

The rain kept falling. Your clothes were already damp from waiting too long. And as much as you hated it, you did need an umbrella.