In the heart of a large city, a young man ran to the facade of a store, seeking shelter from the rain that had suddenly started pouring. Wet, he looked up at the gray sky and smiled, a little embarrassed.
The young man's name was Kyan, and he was an ordinary high school student, but what set him apart from others was his exceptional kindness and willingness to help those around him.
"I really need to start carrying more than one umbrella..." he muttered, still smiling.
Kyan, always attentive to the weather forecast, had left home prepared, but ended up giving his umbrella to an elderly woman as soon as the rain began to fall.
After a few minutes under the shelter of the store, the rain showed no signs of stopping. Determined to face the bad weather, Kyan began running toward home.
The deafening sound of the rain drowned out the noise of the city. Suddenly, a runaway truck, invisible beneath the curtain of water, appeared around the corner. Before he could react, Kyan felt an excruciating pain as he was thrown by the force of the impact.
His vision blurred as his blood mixed with the rain that ran down the sidewalk. "Am I... going to die? Like this?" he thought before his consciousness faded.
---
It was morning. Sunlight streamed through the cracks in the curtains, illuminating Kyan's room. He suddenly opened his eyes, his heart racing and his body drenched in sweat.
"I didn't die?" He looked around, recognizing the familiar room. With trembling hands, he checked his phone. The date and time were normal.
"Was that a dream?" he whispered, his voice heavy with uncertainty. Still, the sensation of the pain, the impact, felt too real.
Determined not to let a dream control him, he got up and followed his usual routine, but what happened next made him hesitate: upon opening the cupboard, he noticed that the coffee was indeed gone, just as in the dream.
Kyan took a step back, stunned. "It's just a coincidence... That's all!" he murmured to himself, clinging to logic.
Though uneasy, the need for caffeine led him to the market. Upon leaving his house, he took two umbrellas, more to reassure his mind than out of real precaution.
As he walked toward the market, he noticed that the streets were busier than in the dream. This made him relax a little, convinced that things would be different.
However, as he exited the market, he encountered an elderly woman. She looked at him, and Kyan felt a chill run down his spine.
"It's the same as in the dream..." He looked at the sky. No rain, just sun. He took a deep breath and decided not to ignore it.
"Excuse me, ma'am," he said kindly. "Do you happen to have an umbrella?"
The elderly woman looked at him strangely. "An umbrella? No... Why?"
Kyan hesitated but extended one of his own. "It may sound strange, but the forecast said it might rain. Please, accept it."
The woman took the umbrella with a shy smile, but before she could thank him, the sunny sky darkened.
...
The rain intensified, and Kyan followed his new path home, breathing deeply with each step to push away the paranoia still consuming him.
But upon hearing a strange sound from an alley, he stopped. A muffled scream and a metallic noise echoed. Against his instinct to move on, he was drawn to the alley, feeling a chill run up his spine.
As he approached, he saw a young woman lying on the ground, motionless, while a bald man fled with her bag.
"Hey, stop!" Kyan shouted, but the man didn't even look back, disappearing into the rain.
Kyan ran to the woman, his heart racing, fearing the worst. He saw she was still breathing but appeared weak and pale. "Are you okay? Stay calm, I'll help you!"
While trying to improvise something to stop the bleeding from a wound on her arm, Kyan barely noticed the presence of another figure in the alley—the man had returned, his shadow cast against the wall by a streetlamp. He was standing still, observing with an empty look, as though time there was irrelevant.
"You should have stayed out of this," the man said, his voice low, almost disinterested. He held a shining blade in his hand, faintly gleaming under the streetlight.
Kyan's heart raced. He wanted to run, but he couldn't leave the woman behind. Trembling, he tried to reason with the man: "Please, don't do this... She needs help. You've already gotten what you wanted!"
The man didn't respond immediately. He stayed still, his eyes emotionless, as though Kyan's and the woman's suffering meant nothing to him. He simply watched, as if studying the scene with distant curiosity. Finally, he gave a small smile, as though amused by a child's game.
Without another word, the man advanced.
Kyan tried to protect the woman, but a sharp, burning pain shot through his body. He fell to his knees, his hands pressing against his stomach, feeling the blood seep between his fingers.
"It hurts... so much..." he whispered, breathing heavily. The scene around him began to fade, but he struggled to stay conscious. His only thought was the young woman lying beside him.
"Is she... alive? Did I... protect her?"
The rain seemed colder now, each drop piercing his skin like needles. The fear of dying again consumed him, a terror that made him tremble even with his weakened body.
"No... this can't be happening... again."
He tried to scream for help, but no sound came. The lights of the alley began to flicker, and an emptiness took hold of him.
Then, on the edge of consciousness, Kyan heard a low laugh, almost illusory, as if it was just a delusion of his mind, a laugh that held no trace of humanity but seemed to echo from somewhere far away.
The rain seemed to freeze in mid-air. For a moment, everything stood still, and the pain disappeared. Then, darkness engulfed him completely.
"You're persistent... but so fragile," the voice sounded soft and indifferent, even though no one else was there to hear it, as if he were just another curious onlooker in an everyday scene.
"I'll watch how you handle this." The voice seemed distant, as if it were everywhere and nowhere at once, cold and indifferent to the suffering Kyan experienced.