Anya's POV
The feeling appeared so suddenly that I almost stopped walking.
At first I thought I was imagining it.
The road ahead looked completely normal.
People were returning home from work.
Vehicles moved through the traffic.
Nothing unusual.
Yet every instinct inside me was screaming that someone was behind me.
Following me.
Watching me.
I tightened my grip around my bag and continued walking without turning around.
The sky above was covered with dark clouds.
A low rumble echoed somewhere far away.
Thunder.
My heartbeat immediately became uneven.
Not now.
Please not now.
I tried focusing on my breathing.
One step.
Then another.
The sensation of being watched remained.
Stronger.
Closer.
I finally turned around.
Nobody.
Only strangers walking along the roadside.
A woman carrying groceries.
Two school children.
An elderly man riding a bicycle.
No one looked suspicious.
No one looked interested in me.
Yet the feeling refused to disappear.
Another thunderclap echoed through the sky.
My fingers trembled.
The first raindrop landed on my sleeve.
Then another.
And suddenly the rain started.
My breathing immediately became shallow.
I hated rainy days.
I hated them more than anything.
The world seemed to blur around me as memories I never wanted to revisit pushed themselves forward.
The sound of rain.
The sound of thunder.
The helpless feeling.
No.
No.
Not again.
I hurried toward the nearest bus stop shed and stepped beneath it just as the rain intensified.
My hands were shaking now.
I gripped the metal railing tightly.
Trying.
Failing.
Trying again.
Then a familiar voice spoke.
"Angry bird?"
I froze.
Slowly turning around, I found Lux standing a few steps away holding a football under one arm.
He looked equally surprised.
"What are you doing here?"
"What am I doing here?" he repeated.
"My tuition is literally nearby."
Then he paused.
His usual grin slowly faded.
"Are you okay?"
I looked away.
That alone was enough.
Lux knew something was wrong.
The next thunderclap made me flinch.
His eyes widened slightly.
Understanding crossed his face.
Not complete understanding.
Just enough.
He sat down on the bench nearby.
Quietly.
Which was somehow stranger than any joke he could have made.
Several moments passed.
Then he suddenly spoke.
"Did I ever tell you I once broke my arm trying to impress a pigeon?"
I looked at him.
"What?"
"True story."
"That sounds fake."
"It does. That's the tragedy."
Despite myself, I stared at him.
He continued speaking.
One ridiculous story after another.
Half of them were probably exaggerated.
The other half were definitely exaggerated.
Yet gradually my attention drifted away from the rain.
Away from the thunder.
Away from the memories.
And toward the idiot sitting across from me.
When the rain finally weakened, Lux stood up.
"Come on."
"What?"
"I'll walk you home."
"I know where my house is."
"I know."
"Then why are you coming?"
"Because if I don't and you get kidnapped by a cloud, people will blame me."
I rolled my eyes.
Yet somehow I didn't refuse.
The walk home was surprisingly quiet.
Near my house, I finally stopped.
"Thank you."
Lux froze.
Completely.
Then pointed at himself.
"Me?"
"Obviously you."
He looked around dramatically.
"Just checking. Nobody has thanked me before."
A laugh escaped me.
A real one.
For the first time that evening.
And Lux smiled.
Not his usual dramatic smile.
A smaller one.
Then he waved.
"See you later, angry bird."
---
Next morning
Rian's POV
The office was already noisy despite being barely larger than a classroom.
People moved between desks carrying files while two programmers argued over something that sounded important to them and completely meaningless to everyone else.
I glanced at the recruitment list again.
Character Designer Position
Only two applicants.
Not ideal.
Then again, startup life rarely was.
I preferred hiring young people anyway.
They were easier to teach.
Harder to scare.
And far less likely to complain when things inevitably exploded.
One applicant was a first-year college student.
The other was a high school senior.
I raised an eyebrow.
A high school senior applying for a character design position wasn't exactly common.
With the list still in hand, I stepped outside my cabin.
The reception area was small.
A few chairs.
A water dispenser.
A balcony attached to the side.
My eyes drifted there casually.
Then stopped.
A girl stood beside the railing.
A small smile rested on her face while she watched several soap bubbles floating upward from somewhere below the building.
The expression looked surprisingly genuine.
Not the polite kind people wore during interviews.
Not the nervous kind either.
Just simple happiness.
One bubble drifted closer.
She poked it.
It burst.
The smile widened slightly.
For some reason, I found that mildly amusing.
Then she noticed me.
The smile disappeared instantly.
Professional.
Guarded.
As if I had imagined it.
Interesting.
I looked away first.
"Send the applicants in one by one."
The receptionist nodded.
A few minutes later there was a knock on my door.
"Come in."
The door opened.
The same girl from the balcony entered.
She looked calmer now.
Though there was still a slight stiffness in her posture.
I glanced at the application.
Grace.
So she was the high school senior.
I motioned toward the chair.
"Sit."
She sat.
I opened the portfolio first.
And paused.
The artwork was good.
Far better than I expected.
Character sheets.
Expression studies.
Costume concepts.
The fundamentals were strong.
Not perfect.
But definitely promising.
I looked up.
"You drew all of these yourself?"
"Yes."
No hesitation.
Good.
"How long have you been drawing?"
"Around six years."
I nodded.
Then turned another page.
"What software do you use?"
She answered immediately.
The conversation continued.
Not difficult questions.
Just practical ones.
How she approached character design.
How she handled feedback.
How she dealt with deadlines.
Most applicants answered those questions with rehearsed responses.
She didn't.
She actually thought before speaking.
Which I appreciated.
Finally I leaned back.
"Why apply here?"
That question made her pause longer.
I expected something generic.
Experience.
Career growth.
Passion.
Instead she looked down briefly before answering.
"I want to create characters people remember."
Simple.
Honest.
Not polished.
Not prepared.
Just honest.
For some reason that answer felt more convincing than most interview speeches I'd heard.
I closed the portfolio.
Then smiled slightly.
"Good answer."
Grace looked genuinely surprised.
As if she hadn't expected praise.
That alone told me more than the interview had.
---
Evening
Iris's POV
The television was running when I returned home from my shift at cafe.
The familiar voice of a news reporter filled the living room while Kaizer sat at the table nearby, a notebook open in front of him.
He was supposedly studying.
Though half his attention appeared to be on the news.
I placed my bag down and glanced at the screen.
The same topic again.
Another disappearance.
Another missing person.
Another family being interviewed.
For some reason, the sight made something uncomfortable twist inside my chest.
Not fear.
Not exactly.
Just...
a strange feeling I couldn't explain.
As if the news was brushing against something buried deep inside me.
Something I couldn't remember.
Which made no sense.
I had never met these people.
So why did it bother me this much?
I looked away first.
Kaizer noticed.
"You are back?"
I nodded.
"Yeah."
The reporter continued speaking in the background.
No suspects.
No evidence.
No explanation.
The same words as always.
I folded my arms.
"Is the police still unable to find the reason behind the sudden cases of disappearance?"
Kaizer's eyes shifted briefly toward the television.
"It's strange."
A few seconds passed.
Then he added quietly,
"Either they're intentionally avoiding it..."
His gaze settled on the screen.
"...or something is really off."
The words felt heavier than they should have.
The room became quiet again.
Then unexpectedly,
Kaizer spoke.
"Grandma..."
I looked up.
"Your grandma used to be a seamstress, right?"
I blinked.
"Yeah."
Then frowned.
"But how do you know that?"
"My mom told me."
"Oh."
That made sense.
At least a little.
Then a thought occurred to me.
"Oh, right."
I tilted my head slightly.
"Did your mom know my grandma before?"
The silence that followed felt strange.
I looked up.
Kaizer was staring at me.
Not speaking.
Just staring.
As if I had said something completely unexpected.
And for a brief moment,
I had the strange feeling that I had missed something important.
Something everyone else knew.
Except me.