A shoulder to cry on

(proludge) Drenched

In Korean, Min-seo means intelligent, gentle, clever, and auspicious. Although I never truly felt like those things, I strived to become that person, I tried to make it my goal.

I wanted to wake up and go to school every day with a clear sense of purpose. Instead, the walk home always became a long nightmare, a daily routine of drowning in my own self-criticism. I constantly questioned who I was trying to impress. Was I doing what I actually wanted, or was I doing exactly what my gut told me not to do?

Trying to fix myself only seemed to make everything worse, as if I were constantly telling myself, You're not perfect enough, so change.

Changing yourself isn't easy, so along the way, I sort of gave up I suppose.

Water trickled down my face, startling me, it was raining.

I looked up at the dark cold night above me, strands of wet hair touched my dry lips, I clutched my chest.  The sound of rain was soothing, like thousands of tiny pins hitting me all at once.     My socks were wet, my clothes were shrunk to my skin, and my whole body shivered against the ground. But even so, all this was soothing, relaxing, it melted me.

I couldn't check the time, but judging by the dark sky, I guessed it was late. I squeezed my knees together and held back the urge to close my eyes. As I laid on the street, I glanced at my bag which was also wet, it was about four meters away. I recalled tossing it out of my hands, and throwing myself onto the street.

A sudden vibration against my ribs broke the silence—my phone buzzing deep inside my jacket pocket. Someone was calling. It was probably my younger brother again. He constantly worries, always fussing over the assumption that I must be lonely out here. The truth is, his anxiety only makes me feel more of a burden.

My brother had always been there for me, he may have been younger, but he always acted like the older one, it never bothered me though, he was being mature.

I wait for the ringing to end, listening to the soft sound of ringtone music fade out as the rain pours heavily. My eyes felt sleepy, and I let them close for a moment, just for a moment. My hair will get greasy like this...when I go home, I'll try to have a shower...

Am I really stupid enough to call that dodgy apartment ''home?..''

——— 🖤———

Waking up is rarely a kind experience, but this was different. I realized, with a slow sort of confusion, that I could hear the heavy downpour of rain—yet I couldn't feel a single drop.

It didn't make sense.

I forced my racing thoughts to quiet down, straining to listen. Beneath the steady rhythm of the storm, there was a faint, melodic sound. Someone was humming. Everything remained a blur of dark shadows and streetlights. Did I actually fall asleep?

I opened my eyes to a clear umbrella towering over me, I stared at it, processing the situation.

"I dont think that's comfortable..." the girl smiles softly, towering over me, a black umbrella in hand, covering her and me, and the rain falling behind.  "...Or is it?"

On the other hand, she's holding my bag, swinging it playfully as if trying to get my attention.

I had already decided I wanted to go as soon as possible... but still, I forced myself to find the courage to take a better look at her. It was deeply embarrassing—she had just caught me sleeping on the bare street. For all I knew, she probably thought I was completely losing my mind.

The second our eyes met, I flinched backward. But she was just standing there, staring right back at me with a faintly amused look on her face.

For some reason, her voice eased me. But the thought immediately followed—was she just standing there, watching me sleep? "Oh... okay," I muttered, my hand instinctively clutching the fabric of my shirt behind my back. Why did I say that? What was that even supposed to mean? The girl didn't seem to mind my awkwardness. She walked over to my soaked bag, picked it up, and gave it a slight shake before handing it back to me.

"I believe this is yours," she said, her smile widening just a fraction.

I snatched it from her grip. The heavy fabric was dripping from top to bottom, freezing against my hands. "Thanks," I said. The word felt clumsy. I clutched the wet bag against my chest, completely lost as to what I should do next.

A suffocating silence stretched between us for a few seconds. I couldn't look up, but I could feel the intense weight of her eyes on me. Dammit, is she going to leave? She didn't move. She just kept staring at me as if I were some sort of late-night entertainment. It was a strange look—bizarre, even. I had never seen anyone look at me with that kind of intense curiosity before.

There was nothing left to talk about. As usual, I was completely useless at making conversation. I began to nervously play with my fingers, my anxiety spiking. She probably thought I was out here trying to commit suicide or something. Please, just walk away...

To distract myself, I forced my eyes to focus on her details. She was wearing sporty clothes. It looked like she was out for a run, but who goes running at this hour? Then, a small flash of plastic caught my eye. There was a name tag pinned to her chest.

I read it out loud without thinking. "Ji-woo..."I paused, the sound of her name hanging in the air. I resolved to search up the meaning of those syllables the second I got back to my room.

Suddenly, I felt a soft, grounding squeeze on my shoulder. I jumped slightly, only just realizing how incredibly close she had stepped into my personal space. Lifting my head I jumped back slightly to see her leaning down to hear me.

Ji-woo slowly let go of my shoulder, her fingers lingering for a fraction of a second. "...What's yours?"

She said it so calmly, with such effortless warmth, that the overwhelming sound of the pouring rain seemed to completely vanish into the night.

——— 🖤 ———

I listened to the wet slap of her sneakers stepping away, and only then did I let my knotted stomach untwist a bit.

I hated talking to people, especially anyone around my own age. But as the frantic butterflies in my stomach finally began to settle, a strange hollowness took their place.

Her sport clothes...I mustn't be wrong. They were the school gym clothes.

Suddenly, a dull spark of realization hit me through the freezing cold. Was it possible she went to Seiryuu High School, too? The thought drifted off as quickly as it came, overridden by the violent shivering of my body. It didn't matter. I didn't care.

I stood frozen on the pavement, watching Ji-woo jog away into the dark, her fingers already rapidly fiddling with something on her phone.

I need to have a shower.