Rain fell hard that afternoon.

Hana stood under the school awning, waiting for it to slow, when Minjae joined her—holding one umbrella.

“Share?” he asked.

She nodded.

The walk was quiet. Comfortable.

Too comfortable.

“Hana,” he said suddenly, stopping near her street.

She looked up at him.

“I like you.”

Her mind went blank.

“…You mean as a friend?”

He shook his head. “No.”

She laughed again, nervous. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“But I’m not special,” she said. “I’m not pretty like the girls who—”

Minjae gently lifted her chin so she had to look at him.

“I don’t want someone everyone looks at,” he said.
“I want someone I feel safe with.”

Rain soaked the pavement between them.

Hana swallowed.

“…I don’t know how to be someone like that.”

He smiled softly. “Good. Then just be you.”