The storm refused to end.
By now the platform felt like its own little world—damp, dim, cut off from everything beyond the pounding of rain. People shifted in restless groups, their voices blending into a dull hum, but none of it reached me. It was just me, my pencil, and the girl who wouldn't stop pressing against the edges of my quiet.
Rei hadn't moved since placing the umbrella between us. It sat there, leaning against the bench like a question I refused to answer. She stretched her legs out carelessly, sneakers tapping against the tiles, eyes flicking toward me every few seconds.
"You always draw?" she asked.
I didn't look up. "…Sometimes."
"That's vague."
"That's the point."
She hummed, low and amused. "Let me guess… sketching's better than talking?"
"It is."
"Better than people?"
I pressed harder on the page. "…Depends on the people."
"Like me?"
My pencil slipped. The line cut across the page, crooked and ugly. I snapped the sketchbook shut before she could see.
"I didn't say that."
"But you didn't say no."
I glared at her. She just smiled again, unbothered, like my sharpness was background noise.
"You're impossible," I muttered.
"And you're interesting."
The words made my chest tighten. I hated that word. Interesting. Like I was some puzzle piece people wanted to flip around until it fit.
I shoved the sketchbook deeper into my bag. "You don't know me."
"Not yet," she said.
"Not ever."
She tilted her head, studying me like I'd just challenged her. "You sound pretty sure about that."
I turned away, staring at the blurred lights outside the glass. The rain washed everything into smudges—streets, signs, people's reflections. It was easier to look at that than her.
Silence stretched again. I thought maybe she'd stop. But Rei wasn't built for stopping.
"What school do you go to?" she asked suddenly.
I stiffened. "…Why?"
"Because you're wearing the same uniform as me," she said easily. "Second-year, right?"
I cursed under my breath. I hadn't realized she was from my school. The building felt big enough that I could disappear most days, drifting between classrooms and corridors like a shadow. Of course someone like her would notice what I wanted to keep hidden.
I muttered, "Doesn't mean anything."
"Means we've probably crossed paths," she said. "Funny I'd remember someone who doesn't remember me."
I risked a glance at her. She looked too calm, but her eyes were sharp, searching. The kind of gaze that peeled layers off without asking permission.
I hated it.
I hated how a part of me wanted to let her.
"I don't… pay attention," I said finally.
"Liar," she said, not unkindly. "You notice everything. You're just pretending you don't."
I clenched my fists in my lap. She wasn't wrong. And that made me hate her more.
The announcement buzzed again: Further delay. Next update in thirty minutes.
Groans filled the platform. Someone cursed. I kept my head down.
"Guess we're stuck longer," Rei said cheerfully.
"Unfortunate," I muttered.
"For you, maybe."
I shot her a look. "…What's that supposed to mean?"
Her grin widened. "Means I don't mind being stuck here. Not with you."
My face heated before I could stop it. I buried myself in my bag, pretending to search for something, anything. "You're ridiculous."
"Maybe. But you're not walking away, are you?"
Her words cut deep. Again. Always.
I hated that she was right. I hated that, for once, silence with someone else didn't feel unbearable.
I should've said something sharp. Instead, I mumbled, barely audible, "…You're loud."
Rei leaned back, laughing softly. "And you're honest when you don't mean to be."
The rain thundered on. I clutched my bag tighter, heart pounding far too hard for someone who swore they didn't care.
And for the first time in a long time, I wasn't sure if I wanted the storm to end.