He thinks its fate working, or something weirder; because he sees her again when the sky turns grey and the clouds bursts into tears we call ‘rain’.

He holds onto his dull black umbrella while she has her black and blue polka-dotted one in her hand, and Yongguk notices she’s always alone under that umbrella. It isn’t the first time he’s seen her, and somehow he knows it won’t be the last either, because for a few weeks now, he’s been noticing her every time cloudburst comes.

He isn’t exaggerating when he says ‘every time’.

It’s been two weeks, and in those two weeks raindrop had poured down five times, and in those five times, he had seen her.

The first time was when he took a bus home. He sat by the window, and saw her from inside. She had the same umbrella she has now with her, and he remembers how pretty she looked from the start.

The second time was during their periodical exams, he was running late. It was still morning, yet rain still poured all over Incheon. He hated it. But then he saw her, from across the street, Yongguk recognized her in less than a second.

The third time was during the last day of their exams, Yongguk went home directly after the bell rang and he didn’t even bother to go out and celebrate with his friends. He was glad he didn’t because the rain was so hard that day that it flooded in downtown Incheon. He was glad he didn’t because he saw her again with that same umbrella and he began to wonder if fate really was real.

The fourth time was the longest time he had laid eyes on her. He got on the bus and grabbed the nearest handlebar. He noticed her right away, sitting at the back with her head leaning against the window. At that moment, he wished to be the person sitting next to her, he wished to be the object she was closely looking at outside while the rain poured down. When he finally took a seat, she got up from her’s. She passed by him and he held his breath in. Up close, she was prettier. Up close, Yongguk almost forgot how to breathe. He still hated the rain but he does look forward to it.

And it’s been four, now five, times that he’s seen her and Yongguk believes fate is real after all.

He would’ve given her a nickname like ‘raindrop’ or ‘rain’ but Yongguk hates rain though. So he calls her ‘sunshine’ instead. There’s no special meaning behind it, he merely wants a name to call her by for now.

Sunshine walks the other way with her polka-dotted umbrella, and Yongguk is left there on the other side of the crossroad, wondering when he’s going to see her again.

“Yongguk.”

Her long raven hair and charming eyes are stuck in his head.

“Yongguk, hey.”

He wishes to see her smile, even just for once.

“Yongguk.”

He wonders what her name is.

“Hey!”

He snaps out of his trance, eyes blinking several times before he focuses on the person across from him and realizes it’s his best friend. “Pardon?”

Himchan sighs, and Yongguk gives an apologetic smile towards him. “You’ve been so out of it lately, what’s gotten into you? What are you thinking about all the time?”

He looks down and notices his unfinished banana milk. He drinks it first before answering him. “Nothing much. Just about… sunshine.” He’s hesitant to mention about her, but his doubts quickly disappears when he sees the quizzical look on Himchan’s face. He really wasn’t that good in guessing to begin with.

“Sunshine?”

“Sunshine.”

“Who’s sunshine?”

“I wish I knew too, Himchan.”

It didn’t rain the next day. He didn’t see her the next day.

But on Wednesday evening it did.

On Wednesday evening, Yongguk finally knows of sunshine’s name.

Song Jieun.

He reads on the nametag she has on her shirt. His eyes dart upwards, and he feels his heart skip a beat when his mud brown orbs meet her hazel ones. He looks back down instead, on the tiled floors, too nervous to look at her in the eye anymore. “Jieun,” he mumbles the name, just for the sake of it.

“Yes? Are you ready to take your order?”

“No. I just think ‘sunshine’ sounds better.”  

- ; here it is. hope I didn't disappoint anybody. tried my best on this.