Dark clouds gathered quickly, thick and low, swallowing the pale morning light as the bus rattled forward. A sudden raindrop struck the window, sharp and loud enough to draw several glances.
Then another.
And another.
Within moments, rain hammered against the glass, heavy and relentless. The chatter inside the bus softened, voices dropping as thunder rolled somewhere too close for comfort.
Elian watched water streak down the window, blurring the city into muted shapes. The sound usually calmed him—but today, his awareness kept drifting sideways.
To the boy beside him.
A faint scent—lavender, maybe—clung to the fabric of the boy's uniform. Elian shifted slightly, then stilled when he realized the boy was watching him.
Not staring.
Just… noticing.
The boy cleared his throat.
"I've never seen you around here before," he said softly. "Are you new?"
Elian nodded, swallowing before answering.
"I moved here last week."
The boy's eyes flickered with surprise. He leaned a little closer, curiosity overcoming his hesitation.
"Where from?"
"Country S."
The reaction was immediate.
The boy's shoulders tensed. His gaze darted briefly toward the front of the bus—toward the teacher seated near the driver—before he leaned in again, voice lowered.
"You probably shouldn't say that so openly."
Elian blinked.
The boy continued, quieter now.
"Things have been… tense since last year. Between schools. Between countries."
A pause.
"Teachers listen more than you think."
Elian's stomach tightened.
"I didn't know," he said.
"I figured."
The boy offered a small, apologetic smile.
"It's not your fault."
The bus lurched over a pothole, their shoulders brushing lightly.
Neither pulled away immediately.
Rain drummed harder overhead.
"I'm Juni," the boy added after a moment.
"Juni Clover—" He stopped himself, then laughed softly.
"Just Juni."
"Elian," he replied.
Juni nodded, rolling the name over quietly, as if committing it to memory.
They fell into silence again—not uncomfortable, but careful. Elian kept his hands folded in his lap, fingers pressed together to still their restlessness. He wondered how much he should say, how much of his old life belonged here.
Juni spoke again, voice tentative.
"Does it bother you?"
"What?"
"Starting over."
Elian hesitated.
Outside, rain blurred the streets into something unfamiliar and distant.
"…A little," he admitted.
Juni's fingers curled tighter around his bag strap.
"Me too," he said, surprising Elian.
"Even when I don't move."
Elian glanced at him.
Juni didn't explain.
He didn't have to.
The bus slowed as it approached the school gates, brakes hissing softly. Students stirred, gathering their things, bracing themselves for the day ahead.
Juni stood quickly, then paused.
"I—um," he said, uncertain.
"If you want… we usually sit together."
Elian felt warmth bloom somewhere beneath his ribs.
"I'd like that," he said.
Juni smiled—small, genuine—before turning toward the aisle.
As Elian followed him off the bus, rain still falling steadily around them, he realized something quietly unsettling.
Starting over didn't feel quite as lonely anymore.