The sky over the district had turned the color of a fading bruise, and by three o’clock, the clouds finally gave way. It wasn't a gentle spring rain; it was a cold, driving downpour that turned the gutters into rushing streams.
Yuri stood under the eaves of the "Sakaki’s Table" entrance, a black umbrella tucked under his arm. He was supposed to be heading to the grocery store to restock on miso, but he found himself staring toward the bus stop near the intersection—the one where the St. Cerasus girls usually waited.
“She’s probably already home,” he told himself, adjusting the collar of his damp Chidori High jacket. “Girls like her have private cars or at least the sense to carry an umbrella.”
But as he approached the intersection, he saw a flash of white and blue.
Selina was standing under the narrow awning of a closed bookstore, looking down at her phone with a frustrated pout. She was trapped. The rain was splashing against her shins, and her pristine uniform was starting to look heavy with dampness.
But she wasn't alone.
Three guys from Yuri's school—juniors known more for their loud mouths than their grades—had surrounded her. They weren't hurting her, but they were leaning into her space, blocking her exit.
"Hey, princess," one of them laughed, his voice grating against the sound of the rain. "St. Cerasus girls shouldn't be wandering around this side of the tracks. Why don't we walk you home? We’ve got a big enough umbrella for four."
Selina stepped back, her back hitting the cold glass of the bookstore window. Her usual bright smile was gone, replaced by a tight, uncomfortable line. "I’m fine, thank you. My bus is coming soon."
"The buses are delayed because of the weather," the leader said, reaching out to touch the ribbon on her blazer. "Come on, don't be stuck up."
Yuri felt a familiar heat rising from his chest to his throat. It was the same heat he’d felt in the preschool sandbox—a roar of protective instinct that drowned out his common sense. He knew what would happen if he intervened. The rumors would say he picked a fight. The teachers would blame him because of his "history."
He didn't care.
Yuri stepped into the rain, his heavy boots splashing loudly on the pavement. He didn't run; he just walked, his shadow growing long and dark against the wet concrete.
"Hey."
The word was low, vibrating with a threat that made the three boys freeze. They turned, expecting a teacher or a cop. When they saw Yuri, their eyes went wide.
"S-Sakaki?" the leader stuttered, his hand dropping from Selina’s ribbon as if it had turned into hot coal.
Yuri stopped two feet away. He didn't raise his fists. He didn't need to. He just stared at them with those violet eyes, his wet hair plastered to his forehead, looking every bit like the "demon" the school whispered about.
"Is there a problem here?" Yuri asked.
"No! No problem, man!" the guys scrambled backward, nearly tripping over each other. "We were just... leaving! Right guys? We’re leaving!"
They bolted into the rain, disappearing around the corner faster than a Janjan sports car.
Silence fell between the bookstore and the street, save for the rhythmic drumming of the rain. Yuri let out a long breath, the tension leaving his shoulders. He turned to Selina, his expression softening back into its usual "awkward" state.
"You okay?"
Selina was staring at him, her chest rising and falling quickly. For a second, Yuri felt a pang of guilt. I scared her too, he thought. Of course I did. I look like a monster.
"Sorry," Yuri muttered, looking at his boots. "I didn't mean to freak you out. I just saw them and—"
Suddenly, a warm weight hit his chest.
Selina hadn't backed away. She had stepped forward, grabbing his damp jacket sleeves with both hands. She was looking up at him, and to his absolute shock, her eyes weren't filled with fear. They were shining.
"You're soaking wet," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly—not from terror, but from something else.
"I'm fine," Yuri said, his face heating up. He quickly popped his black umbrella open and held it over both of them. It was a tight fit. Their shoulders were pressed together, the scent of her floral perfume mixing with the smell of the wet pavement and the rain.
"Thank you, Yuri," she said softly. She reached out and touched his hand—the one holding the umbrella handle. Her skin was warm, a sharp contrast to the cold rain. "You really haven't changed at all. You still show up exactly when I need you."
Yuri looked away, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. "I told you, I don't remember much. I just don't like seeing people get bothered."
Selina giggled, a small, musical sound that cut through the gloom of the storm. She leaned her head subtly toward his arm, seeking his warmth. "You’re a terrible liar, Yuri Sakaki. But you’re a very good hero."
They stood there for a long time, shielded from the world by a single circle of black fabric. Yuri held the umbrella steady, his arm aching from the tension, but he didn't want to move. He realized then that he would stand in a hundred storms if it meant he got to be the one to keep her dry.
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