Autumn Calculus

Ch.13.

Tuesday brought with it a gentle drizzle, the kind of rain that painted the campus in muted tones and wrapped the air in a cool, refreshing embrace. Eun-ji loved this kind of weather. It made her feel grounded—calm, even. She strolled to class with an umbrella in one hand and her books in the other, her steps unhurried as raindrops tapped against the fabric above her.

Her phone buzzed, and she paused under the awning of a nearby building to check it. It was a message from Ji-hoon:

Ji-hoon: Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who loves the rain.
Eun-ji: Maybe I am. What’s wrong with that?
Ji-hoon: Rain is just wet sadness falling from the sky.
Eun-ji: That sounds like something a bad poet would write.
Ji-hoon: Ouch. Okay, rain enthusiast. Meet me after class. You’ll see why I hate it.

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile spreading across her face. Ji-hoon had a knack for turning mundane things into conversations that stayed with her longer than they should.

---

After her last class, Eun-ji stood under the library overhang, waiting for Ji-hoon. She had texted him earlier to confirm, and as usual, he’d replied with a cryptic: On my way, Miss Rainy Day.

When he finally arrived, he was drenched. His hair clung to his forehead, his hoodie was soaked, and his sneakers squelched with every step.

"You could’ve brought an umbrella," she said, stifling a laugh.

"I forgot," he grumbled, shaking his head like a wet dog. "See? Rain is terrible."

Eun-ji held her umbrella higher, sheltering him as they walked. "Maybe it’s only terrible because you’re unprepared."

He shot her a look. "What, are you going to give me a lecture about life and responsibility now?"

"Would you listen if I did?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Probably not," he admitted, grinning.

Their playful banter continued as they made their way to the student center. The rain had softened into a mist by the time they arrived, and Ji-hoon led Eun-ji to a small café tucked into the corner of the building. It was cozy, with warm lighting and the faint aroma of cinnamon.

"I’ll get us something," Ji-hoon said, gesturing for her to grab a table.

Eun-ji found a spot by the window, watching droplets race down the glass as the sky brightened just slightly. When Ji-hoon returned, he placed a mug of hot chocolate in front of her, topped with an absurd amount of whipped cream.

"For the rain enthusiast," he said, setting down his own coffee.

Eun-ji stared at the drink, amused. "Are you trying to bribe me into liking rain less?"

"Maybe," he said, taking a sip of his coffee. "Or maybe I’m just trying to prove I’m not entirely hopeless."

They fell into an easy rhythm, talking about classes, their shared struggles with balancing schedules, and even the cultural festival from the weekend. Ji-hoon recounted a particularly embarrassing moment when he’d tripped over a stray hose while carrying lantern supplies.

"I swear, Eun-ji, the ground came alive just to mess with me," he said, gesturing dramatically.

"Or maybe you’re just clumsy," she countered, laughing.

Ji-hoon leaned back in his chair, feigning offense. "You’re supposed to defend me, not join the attack."

"Not when it’s this funny," she said, wiping away a tear of laughter.

Their conversation took a quieter turn as they both finished their drinks. Ji-hoon looked out the window, his expression unusually thoughtful.

"You know," he began, "I used to hate days like this. Rainy, slow, everything feeling kind of... heavy."

Eun-ji tilted her head, curious. "Why?"

He hesitated, then shrugged. "I guess it reminded me of times when things weren’t so great. But today doesn’t feel like that."

She didn’t press further, sensing that he wasn’t ready to share more. Instead, she smiled softly. "Maybe you just needed the right company."

Ji-hoon glanced at her, his grin returning. "Maybe."

---

Later that evening, Eun-ji met up with Ha-rin and Min-seo at the dorm lounge. They had a standing Tuesday night tradition of watching variety shows together, and tonight’s episode was a particularly chaotic one featuring celebrities attempting ridiculous challenges.

Ha-rin was doubled over laughing at a scene where an actor failed spectacularly at balancing on a giant ball. Min-seo, ever composed, chuckled softly, while Eun-ji couldn’t stop giggling at the absurdity of it all.

"You know," Ha-rin said between laughs, "we should try something fun like this. Maybe for the next campus event?"

Min-seo raised an eyebrow. "And what would that be? Falling off balance balls in public?"

"Why not?" Ha-rin said, grinning. "Life’s too short to be boring."

Eun-ji smiled at her friends, feeling a deep sense of gratitude for these moments. It wasn’t always easy balancing academics and personal life, but having people like Ha-rin and Min-seo—and even Ji-hoon—made it all worthwhile.

As the night wore on, and their laughter filled the lounge, Eun-ji realized that her world had become a little brighter, a little fuller, with each new connection she’d made. The drizzle outside had turned to stars, and for the first time in a long while, she felt like everything was falling into place.