Echoes of the Rain

when you truly want me

I sat in Yohan's car as the rain poured down relentlessly, the sound of raindrops hitting the roof a constant, heavy rhythm. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to stay warm. Yohan glanced over at me, noticing my discomfort. "Are you scared of thunderstorms?" he asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

"These thunderstorms are nothing compared to the miseries of my life," I replied flatly, staring out the window.

"Oh, I see..." he murmured, clearly taken aback by my response. I could tell he was trying to understand, but how could he? He couldn't possibly know what it's like to struggle alone, without a single family member by your side.

I turned to him and asked, "What's so good about rain?"

Yohan kept his eyes on the road but his expression softened. "I don't know," he said slowly, "but whenever it rains, I feel very calm... Like every drop is washing away all the noise and chaos inside me, giving me a fresh start, a new beginning."

I shook my head, a bitter smile on my lips. "You know, rain always brings misfortune into my life. Whenever it falls, I can't help but wonder what it will take from me this time... The sound of rain is just noise to me-noise that reminds me of everything I've lost."

He glanced at me again, this time with a more serious expression. Without saying a word, he reached over and turned on the car's music system. Soft, soothing melodies filled the car, blending with the sound of the rain outside. "Maybe this can help drown out the noise," he suggested with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood.

But the chaos in my mind was louder than any music. The rain outside was relentless, just like the storms that seemed never-ending in my life.

The rain slowed to a gentle drizzle, and Yohan rolled down his window slightly, letting a cool breeze sweep through the car. "Where do I turn?" he asked, looking at me for guidance.

"Turn left here," I replied, glancing around at the familiar streets.

Yohan nodded, his eyes scanning the area. "I've never been on this side of town before," he said.

"What kind of reason would you have to come here, anyway?" I shot back, my tone sharper than I intended. I saw him pause, searching for words, clearly taken aback by my bluntness. Maybe I'd said too much.

We continued driving in silence until we reached the road where my house was located. I pointed ahead. "You can drop me off here. I'll walk the rest of the way."

He hesitated, "Is your house close by?"

"No, it's... a little far, but I can manage," I insisted, already opening the door to step out.

Before I could leave, Yohan said, "I'm thirsty... Can you offer me a glass of water?"

I sighed, realizing I had no excuse left. "Okay, come with me," I agreed, though the idea of him seeing where I lived made me uneasy. As we walked toward my house, I tried to fill the awkward silence. "So... you and Jiho, you're friends... like, really good friends?"

Yohan smiled slightly. "Yeah, kind of. We're brothers."

"Brothers?" I echoed, surprised.

He nodded. "Didn't you know? Everyone at school knows that. He's my stepbrother. Jiho's mother and father were different from mine. His mom passed away when he was seven, and then his father married my mother after their divorce. I was the same age as Jiho when our parents got married."

I stayed quiet, listening closely. There was a sadness in his voice I hadn't heard before.

Yohan continued, "When we were ten, his father died in a car accident. We were too young to do anything about it, so my mom took over the business on her own. She's been handling everything since then... I just want to help her as much as I can."

Before I could respond, we reached the narrow path leading to my house. "We're here," I said, my voice softening. I felt a mix of relief and nervousness as we stopped in front of my small, modest home.

I opened the gate just enough to slip through and closed it behind me, quickly grabbing a glass of water from the kitchen. When I returned, I opened the gate just wide enough to hand it to Yohan, making sure he couldn't see the inside of my home. He took the glass, but his expression was teasing.

"You're not going to invite me in?" he asked, half-smiling.

"Ah... maybe next time," I replied, trying to sound casual.

Just then, the rain started to fall again, more intense this time. I sighed, realizing he would be soaked in moments. Reluctantly, I opened the gate a little wider. "Hurry, come in or you'll get drenched," I said, my tone softening despite myself.

Yohan smiled, shaking his head. "Don't worry, this rain can't hurt me," he replied, the drops of rain already glistening on his hair. "I'll come into your home when you truly want me to, when you open the door willingly... not just because of the rain."

He turned and walked away, letting the rain pour down on him, his figure slowly fading into the gray curtain of rain. I watched him for a moment, feeling an inexplicable urge to call him back, but how could I? We didn't share any bond; I couldn't even say we were friends.

So, I stayed silent, the rain between us growing heavier, like a wall I couldn't cross.