Rain was supposed to be gentle that night.
Soft, rhythmic, poetic — the kind of rain Aira loved, the kind she watched with headphones on while pretending she wasn't lonely.
But destiny has a habit of being dramatic.
A thunder crack split the sky in two as she stepped onto the school terrace, her hoodie dripping and her heart racing. The annual farewell party was still going on downstairs — loud music, fake smiles, friendships built on convenience. She needed air. She needed silence.
Instead, she found him.
A boy stood on the edge of the terrace railing like he belonged there — dark jacket, hair wet, expression unreadable, eyes fixed on the city below as if he was trying to decode it. He didn't flinch at the thunder; he didn't even react when her footsteps echoed across the terrace.
For a moment, Aira froze.
He's going to jump, her brain whispered.
"Hey—" she called out, a little too loudly.
He turned — slowly — and those eyes met hers.
Storm-grey. Intense. Like he had seen everything the world had to offer, and none of it impressed him.
"What do you want?" he asked, voice deep and calm, way too calm for someone standing on a railing during a thunderstorm.
Aira swallowed. "To stop you from doing something stupid?"
He stared at her for a solid five seconds… and then, to her shock, laughed.
"A jump?" he said. "That's what you think I'm doing?"
"Well, you're standing on the edge of a five-storey building," she snapped. "What am I supposed to think—that you're just getting fresh air like a normal person?"
He jumped off — not down, but backwards — landing in front of her with silent, effortless precision.
Aira stumbled back.
"I'm not normal," the boy said. "So don't expect me to behave like one."
No joke, Aira thought.
Silence stretched between them for a second. She took a breath and stood straighter. She wasn't going to show fear — that was the rule she'd promised herself after everything she'd been through.
"Fine," she said. "Then give me your name. Dramatic rooftop guy."
He smirked — a sharp, playful smirk that said he wasn't used to people talking to him this way.
"Arin."
She blinked. "…I'm Aira."
"I know."
Her heartbeat froze. "How do you know my name?"
Instead of answering, he picked up her school ID card from the floor and handed it to her — but there was something in his expression, something secretive… as if he knew more than what was printed on a plastic card.
"You shouldn't run when it's raining," he said. "You dropped this on the staircase."
She hadn't even realized.
His fingers brushed against hers when she took the card, and a spark shot up her arm — real, physical, electric. Arin flinched too, as if he had felt it.
"What… was that?" she whispered.
"No idea," he replied, but his eyes said the opposite — he knew something.
Before she could ask more, the rain got heavier. He turned to leave, hoodie swaying behind him, walking like someone who didn't belong anywhere yet somehow fit everywhere.
"Wait," she called. "Are you even from this school? I've never seen you before."
He paused at the staircase door without turning.
"Starting tomorrow," he said, "you'll see me everywhere."
And then he was gone.
THE NEXT MORNING
Rumors spread faster than fire.
There was a new admission in 11-B.
A transfer student.
Good-looking.
Mysterious.
Dangerous, according to some girls who swore they heard he used to fight in another school.
Aira didn't care — she had her own problems: an unfinished project, a fight with her best friend, and a family that treated her like a ghost until they needed something.
But when she walked into class and saw Arin sitting casually in the last bench… her brain stalled.
He didn't look at her.
He didn't smile.
He didn't acknowledge that last night ever happened.
Typical.
She ignored him too.
Or tried to.
But the universe has a wicked sense of humor.
"Group activity in pairs!" the teacher announced. "I'm assigning partners myself."
Aira prayed silently. Anyone except him. Anyone.
"Aira and… Arin."
Every girl turned to stare.
Her mouth fell open.
Arin finally looked at her — not with any emotion but with a sort of "I warned you" expression.
They sat together. Silence. Awkward.
She opened her notebook. "Look, whatever happened last night—"
"Nothing happened last night," he cut in without looking at her. "Forget it."
She clenched her jaw. "You can't just act mysterious on a roof then pretend it never happened."
He turned toward her again — this time his gaze was softer. Almost… guilty.
"I don't want you getting involved," he said quietly. "People who get close to me don't stay safe."
Aira forced a laugh. "Is that your pickup line?"
"No." His voice dropped lower. "It's a warning."
The room noise echoed around them — but in that tiny space between the two of them, there was something else. Fear. Curiosity. Electricity. Fate.
And they both felt it.
THE FIRST CRACK IN NORMAL LIFE
"Meet me after school," Arin said, slipping a folded note into her hand when no one was watching.
She stared at him. "Why?"
"You want answers," he replied. "I'll give you one. Just one. Tonight. Rooftop."
A thunder rolled in the sky again — exactly like the night before.
Aira didn't like the fear building inside her…
but she hated mysteries even more.
So she nodded.
Because sometimes, life offers you a choice between safety and meaning.
And deep down, she'd always wanted meaning.
She didn't know it yet…
but that single decision would change everything.
Her friendships.
Her family.
Her heart.
Her destiny.
And Arin — the boy who arrived from nowhere — wasn't just a stranger.
He was the beginning of a story she never asked for…
…but could never escape.
Rain was supposed to be gentle that night.
Soft, rhythmic, poetic — the kind of rain Aira loved, the kind she watched with headphones on while pretending she wasn't lonely.
But destiny has a habit of being dramatic.
A thunder crack split the sky in two as she stepped onto the school terrace, her hoodie dripping and her heart racing. The annual farewell party was still going on downstairs — loud music, fake smiles, friendships built on convenience. She needed air. She needed silence.
Instead, she found him.
A boy stood on the edge of the terrace railing like he belonged there — dark jacket, hair wet, expression unreadable, eyes fixed on the city below as if he was trying to decode it. He didn't flinch at the thunder; he didn't even react when her footsteps echoed across the terrace.
For a moment, Aira froze.
He's going to jump, her brain whispered.
"Hey—" she called out, a little too loudly.
He turned — slowly — and those eyes met hers.
Storm-grey. Intense. Like he had seen everything the world had to offer, and none of it impressed him.
"What do you want?" he asked, voice deep and calm, way too calm for someone standing on a railing during a thunderstorm.
Aira swallowed. "To stop you from doing something stupid?"
He stared at her for a solid five seconds… and then, to her shock, laughed.
"A jump?" he said. "That's what you think I'm doing?"
"Well, you're standing on the edge of a five-storey building," she snapped. "What am I supposed to think—that you're just getting fresh air like a normal person?"
He jumped off — not down, but backwards — landing in front of her with silent, effortless precision.
Aira stumbled back.
"I'm not normal," the boy said. "So don't expect me to behave like one."
No joke, Aira thought.
Silence stretched between them for a second. She took a breath and stood straighter. She wasn't going to show fear — that was the rule she'd promised herself after everything she'd been through.
"Fine," she said. "Then give me your name. Dramatic rooftop guy."
He smirked — a sharp, playful smirk that said he wasn't used to people talking to him this way.
"Arin."
She blinked. "…I'm Aira."
"I know."
Her heartbeat froze. "How do you know my name?"
Instead of answering, he picked up her school ID card from the floor and handed it to her — but there was something in his expression, something secretive… as if he knew more than what was printed on a plastic card.
"You shouldn't run when it's raining," he said. "You dropped this on the staircase."
She hadn't even realized.
His fingers brushed against hers when she took the card, and a spark shot up her arm — real, physical, electric. Arin flinched too, as if he had felt it.
"What… was that?" she whispered.
"No idea," he replied, but his eyes said the opposite — he knew something.
Before she could ask more, the rain got heavier. He turned to leave, hoodie swaying behind him, walking like someone who didn't belong anywhere yet somehow fit everywhere.
"Wait," she called. "Are you even from this school? I've never seen you before."
He paused at the staircase door without turning.
"Starting tomorrow," he said, "you'll see me everywhere."
And then he was gone.
THE NEXT MORNING
Rumors spread faster than fire.
There was a new admission in 11-B.
A transfer student.
Good-looking.
Mysterious.
Dangerous, according to some girls who swore they heard he used to fight in another school.
Aira didn't care — she had her own problems: an unfinished project, a fight with her best friend, and a family that treated her like a ghost until they needed something.
But when she walked into class and saw Arin sitting casually in the last bench… her brain stalled.
He didn't look at her.
He didn't smile.
He didn't acknowledge that last night ever happened.
Typical.
She ignored him too.
Or tried to.
But the universe has a wicked sense of humor.
"Group activity in pairs!" the teacher announced. "I'm assigning partners myself."
Aira prayed silently. Anyone except him. Anyone.
"Aira and… Arin."
Every girl turned to stare.
Her mouth fell open.
Arin finally looked at her — not with any emotion but with a sort of "I warned you" expression.
They sat together. Silence. Awkward.
She opened her notebook. "Look, whatever happened last night—"
"Nothing happened last night," he cut in without looking at her. "Forget it."
She clenched her jaw. "You can't just act mysterious on a roof then pretend it never happened."
He turned toward her again — this time his gaze was softer. Almost… guilty.
"I don't want you getting involved," he said quietly. "People who get close to me don't stay safe."
Aira forced a laugh. "Is that your pickup line?"
"No." His voice dropped lower. "It's a warning."
The room noise echoed around them — but in that tiny space between the two of them, there was something else. Fear. Curiosity. Electricity. Fate.
And they both felt it.
THE FIRST CRACK IN NORMAL LIFE
"Meet me after school," Arin said, slipping a folded note into her hand when no one was watching.
She stared at him. "Why?"
"You want answers," he replied. "I'll give you one. Just one. Tonight. Rooftop."
A thunder rolled in the sky again — exactly like the night before.
Aira didn't like the fear building inside her…
but she hated mysteries even more.
So she nodded.
Because sometimes, life offers you a choice between safety and meaning.
And deep down, she'd always wanted meaning.
She didn't know it yet…
but that single decision would change everything.
Her friendships.
Her family.
Her heart.
Her destiny.
And Arin — the boy who arrived from nowhere — wasn't just a stranger.
He was the beginning of a story she never asked for…
…but could never escape.