"Takahashi-san, could you stay late tonight? We need those reports by morning."
Hana Takahashi stifled a sigh. "Of course, Yamamoto-san. I'll take care of it."
Her supervisor nodded, already walking away. Hana turned back to her computer screen, the fluorescent lights of the office burning her tired eyes. Outside, rain pelted against the windows, blurring the Tokyo skyline.
She glanced at her watch. 10:47 PM. Another late night.
Hana's fingers flew across the keyboard, the clacking sounds joining the hum of the air conditioner. Around her, her colleagues packed up, heading home to their families or after-work drinks.
"See you tomorrow, Takahashi-san," a coworker called out.
Hana managed a weak smile. "Good night."
The office emptied. Hana rubbed her temples, fighting off a headache. At 25, this wasn't the life she'd imagined for herself.
Hours passed. Hana finished the reports, emailed them to her boss, and shut down her computer. The clock read 11:45 PM.
She gathered her things, her movements sluggish with exhaustion. In the elevator, she realized she'd forgotten her umbrella at home. Perfect.
The night air hit her as she stepped out of the building. The rain had lessened to a drizzle, but it was enough to soak through her thin blazer. Hana hunched her shoulders, hurrying towards the train station.
A gust of wind caught her off guard. She stumbled, her heel catching on an uneven part of the sidewalk. Hana braced for impact, but a strong hand caught her arm.
"Whoa there! You okay?"
Hana looked up. A young man stood before her, concern etched on his face. He held a battered guitar case in one hand, the other still steadying her.
"I'm fine," Hana said, straightening up. "Thank you."
The stranger smiled. "No problem. Looks like you could use this more than me." He held out a compact umbrella.
Hana hesitated. "Oh, I couldn't—"
"I insist," he said, pressing it into her hand. "I'm only going to the station anyway."
Their fingers brushed. Hana felt a jolt, like static electricity. She looked at him properly for the first time. Messy hair, kind eyes, a day's worth of stubble on his jaw. He wore a faded t-shirt and jeans, a stark contrast to her formal work attire.
"I'm Ren," he said. "Ren Nakamura."
"Hana Takahashi," she replied, bowing slightly. "Thank you for the umbrella, Nakamura-san."
Ren waved his hand. "Just Ren is fine. And it's no big deal."
They started walking, falling into step beside each other. The late-night streets of Tokyo bustled around them, neon signs reflecting off the wet pavement.
"So, Hana-san," Ren said, "what keeps you out so late on a rainy night?"
Hana sighed. "Work. Always work."
Ren nodded sympathetically. "Ah, the corporate life. Not for the faint of heart."
"What about you?" Hana asked, gesturing to his guitar case.
A grin spread across Ren's face. "I'm a musician. Just finished a gig at a local bar."
"That sounds exciting," Hana said, a hint of envy in her voice.
Ren shrugged. "It has its ups and downs. But I wouldn't trade it for anything."
They reached the station entrance. Hana turned to Ren, suddenly reluctant to part ways.
"I should give you back your umbrella," she said.
Ren shook his head. "Keep it. Maybe you can return it to me sometime."
Their eyes met. Hana felt her heart skip a beat.
"How would I find you?" she asked, surprising herself with her boldness.
Ren grinned. "I play at Yoyogi Park on weekends. Near the fountain. Come find me if you're free."
Before Hana could respond, Ren disappeared into the crowd. She stood there, clutching the umbrella, watching the spot where he'd vanished.
For the first time in months, Hana felt a spark of excitement. As she boarded her train home, she found herself looking forward to the weekend.