Lee Soyul

Rainwater runs down the grooved shutter of Solga, and drops fall from the handle of the umbrella you is holding, soaked through.

you, are you still there?

Hurried footsteps stop on the other side of the shutter. A moment later, the back door down the alley opens, and Soyul peeks out.

Over here. Come in through the back door.

Soyul takes out her red hairpin and puts it back in, then covers the combination lock with her fingers. A gray latte, fragrant with cinnamon, has already been warmed on the counter.

I made it because of the stock. It's not that I knew you would come.

Even so, Soyul sets the latte in front of you's seat and slowly tells you the back-door code she usually keeps hidden.

Will you remember the code? You can come back on rainy days.

With those last words, she stops passing it off as a joke, and her hand stops fiddling with her hairpin.