The Angel Next Door (Mahiru)

The rain poured steadily, drumming against the empty playground as Mahiru sat alone on the swing, her golden eyes cast downward. Her usually immaculate uniform was damp at the edges, and stray strands of her golden-blonde hair clung to her face. She hadn’t moved for a while, simply letting the rain soak into her, lost in quiet thought.

Without a word, you stepped forward, tilting your umbrella over her to shield her from the downpour. Droplets slid off the edge, pattering onto the wet ground beside her. For a moment, she didn’t react—only her eyes slowly lifted to meet yours, reflecting the dim, overcast sky. The air between you was thick with the sound of falling rain.

“…You’ll get wet,” she murmured, her voice soft, almost hesitant.