Thunder Rolls in the Pouring Rain (12)

Thunder rumbled loudly the moment he opened the front door. Rumble! Rain poured down in sheets.

"Fuck. Even the weather's against me."

He'd been spouting nonsense about how poetic it was when the drinking started, but now it just pissed him off. He grabbed an umbrella, popped it open, and sprinted to Jeong Ha-yeon's place.

"Huff... huff... haa."

It wasn't far to begin with, so running full tilt got him there in no time. Seo Joo-hwan caught his breath and swallowed hard. Now that he was actually standing at her door, his head throbbed thinking about how to fix the insane mess he'd made. Hell, was it even fixable?

First, see her face and apologize.

Hesitating would just waste time. The longer he waited, the harder it'd be to turn things around. Gritting his teeth, he knocked.

"Ha... Ha-yeon-ah. It's Joo-hwan. Open the door, please."

……

No response. Nothing from inside.

Is she so pissed she's ignoring me?

It made sense. He hadn't even let her get a proper word in during his serious talk—just zoned out, said his piece, and bailed. But he couldn't give up.

"Ha-yeon-ah, open the door! I'm sorry! Let's talk face-to-face!"

Shouting it out loud brought a wave of embarrassment. What the hell was he doing? Then he realized he still had the mental bandwidth for shame, gritted his teeth again, and raised his voice louder.

"Ha-yeon…!"

"Ugh. So damn loud."

"……?"

That wasn't Jeong Ha-yeon's voice. But it wasn't a stranger either. The words came from right beside him. He turned to see Lee Seok-chan smirking pitifully.

Tsking his tongue, Lee Seok-chan said, "You two break up?"

"…Yeah."

"Tch. Knew it wouldn't last."

"……."

"Hey, since you're split, wanna hit a pension after semester ends to chill?"

"…You fucking psycho?"

The absurdity made curses spill out. Lee Seok-chan just chuckled like it was nothing, then snorted and looked at him like a pathetic loser.

"What, like you're any better?"

"…You could've said something at least."

"Bullshit. If you'd have listened, I'd have said it ages ago. And I hate meddling in other people's love lives."

Seo Joo-hwan wanted to snap back but had nothing, so he just scowled. Fair point—he'd been too stuck in his petty past to take advice anyway. Only after Jeong So-ra chewed him out and he used that item did he snap out of it.

Lee Seok-chan chuckled again. "Jeong Ha-yeon's not home. Saw her head out earlier."

"…What? Where? She's not feeling well—why'd she go out?"

"How the hell should I know?"

"When'd she leave?"

"Dunno? An hour or two ago? Hasn't come back."

"Fuck. Two hours? Where the hell would she go?"

"Beats me. She left without an umbrella when the rain let up for a sec?"

Lee Seok-chan shrugged. Seo Joo-hwan scowled and pulled out his phone to call her, but noticed a bunch of missed calls. All from Jeong Ha-yeon, piled up from before his chat with Jeong So-ra.

Shit. Didn't see them. She must think I ghosted her.

Realizing how fucked he was, he dialed her. Just endless ringing—no answer.

As anxiety spiked and he went to redial, Lee Seok-chan piped up. "Yo, I hear the ringtone from inside?"

"Huh?"

He called again and listened. Faintly, yeah—from inside the room.

Lee Seok-chan tsked. "Left her phone behind, looks like."

"What the actual fu—"

I don't believe this shit anymore!

How was breaking up lucky? Or was it lucky they split before it got worse? Still, he'd pulled himself together and rushed here—leaving her phone couldn't be luck.

Growing irritated at the nonstop alerts, Seo Joo-hwan grumbled and turned to leave. Seemed like a sign to move.

As he headed down the stairs, Lee Seok-chan's annoying voice called from behind. "Joo-hwan! Jeong Ha-yeon's got anemia, right? If she's passed out somewhere, call an ambulance!"

His blood boiled. Whirling around, Seo Joo-hwan yelled, "You fucking idiot! If you're gonna say dumb shit like that, come help look!"

"Eek. Too bothersome."

"That's what you say as a friend?"

"Huh? Chan's twenty-two, so he's not a friend—he's a lil' bro. Pbbbt."

Lee Seok-chan puffed his cheeks and stuck a finger in his mouth. Seo Joo-hwan wanted to kill him right there.

"You little shit…"

He spat and stormed down the stairs, then took off running again. Lee Seok-chan leaned on the railing, watching him go while cackling.

"Lmao. She's only been gone five minutes."

That last bit was pure trolling. Jeong Ha-yeon was probably just at a convenience store or grabbing a smoke.

"Tch. Hope I don't get my ass beat later."

He'd poked the bear for fun, but now he worried about the aftermath. She'd scrapped Baek Jeong-gi good, so she could fight. Still, couldn't help it. They'd known each other eight years—seeing that loser cry like back then twisted his guts. Typical of her, huh? Always picking on the nerd. He'd told her to make more friends.

Shrugging lazily, Lee Seok-chan stretched. "Eh, whatever. If he hits me, Ha-yeon'll shield me. No way she'd let him."

This guy's luck doubled as a guide too. At crossroads, picking wrong triggered a frenzy of alerts. Following them, he got a rough sense of direction.

He'd left the residential area, sprinting toward the three-way intersection.

There.

A spot popped into mind. No need for alerts now—he ran straight there. They quieted, confirming it.

Soon, a familiar smoking booth appeared.

"Huff... huff... haaa."

He stopped nearby to catch his breath, then approached slowly. Inside, a long-haired woman in a black hoodie stared blankly, smoking.

"…Ha-yeon-ah."

"Who? Huh?"

She flinched at her name, wiping her face with her sleeve. Spotting him, Jeong Ha-yeon's eyes widened in surprise.

"J-Joo-hwan? Why're you here… Oh, came for a smoke too?"

She forced an awkward smile unlike her usual self. Seo Joo-hwan just stared silently. He'd planned to apologize right away, had more to say too—but seeing her, words stuck.

Only her red-rimmed eyes stood out sharp.

No way… she cried?

Her eyes were puffy and red, traces of tears uncleared.

Seo Joo-hwan stared dumbly, thinking: Has Ha-yeon ever cried?

Nope. Not while dating, not ever. Even when Baek Jeong-gi swung at her, she'd counterattacked without flinching. Never imagined her crying.

"…Still mad?"

"……."

"Um, sorry. I was too sudden. I mean… no, sorry."

Seeing her stammer made his chest ache. He'd fucked ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠up—why was she apologizing?

His face twisting, he stepped closer.

"Joo-hwan? Huh? Wha—?"

He pulled her into a tight hug. Her startled voice rang out. He'd held her plenty, but right now she felt fragile.

"Sorry."

"…Huh?"

"Sorry, Ha-yeon-ah. I'm so sorry."

Her eyes stung from crying too much. The smoke? Tears she'd thought stopped welled up again at the sharp pain. Today was screwing her from all angles.

"I dump him and I'm the one bawling… fuck."

The dumped one should cry—what was this? She didn't even get why, just some bullshit breakup out of nowhere. How ridiculous was that?

"Confess first, dump first. What a joke, Jeong Ha-yeon."

And then mumbling about staying friends? Even she wanted to laugh at the absurdity.

But seeing him go? Tears flowed anyway. Hated how they came unbidden.

"Hoo."

When was the last time she'd cried like this? Thought she'd graduated from bawling eight years ago.

That's when she heard it.

"…Ha-yeon-ah."

A familiar voice. She flinched, hastily wiping her eyes. Turning confirmed it—Seo Joo-hwan.

"J-Joo-hwan? Why're you here… Oh, came for a smoke too?"

She forced a smile. She'd suggested friends first—couldn't act awkward now. He'd dodged answering, but if she got weird too, even friendship was doomed.

But his silent stare reminded her: When she'd said breakup and fumbled the reason, he'd just listened stone-faced. Unreadable—shocked? Angry? Maybe both. But that cold expression radiated deep loneliness. One she'd worn often herself.

Unable to meet his eyes, she looked down and spoke carefully.

"…Still mad?"

"……."

"Um, sorry. I was too sudden. I mean…"

She trailed off, recalling her impulsive confession. He'd rejected once.

…Ha-yeon-ah, dating scares me. What if we break up later…

He'd feared breakup before even starting. Some deep hurt? She saw a similarity to her friend-making struggles. Thought they'd mesh perfectly. Pushed hard, made it happen—

Let's break up.

She'd cut it first. No good reason, no confidence it'd work, just one-sided. She'd convinced herself they'd revert after thinking it through—but to him, sudden and selfish.

"…No, sorry."

Couldn't continue; it was just excuses for understanding. Better apologize again.

Thud. He approached. Eyes down, she saw his feet and looked up ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in panic.

"Joo-hwan? Huh? Wha—?"

He hugged her tight. That familiar embrace felt huge now, arms firm around her. Stunned, she gaped wordlessly. Push away? Ask to let go?

Get it together.

She'd said breakup. Half-assed feelings wouldn't help. Gently pushing, she opened her mouth—

His words came first. "Sorry."

"…Huh?"

She blinked dumbly. But he kept going.

"Sorry, Ha-yeon-ah. I fucked up."

"Huh? No, why're you—"

Confusing. She'd dumped him on flimsy grounds—why his apology?

"Sorry. I was selfish. Only thought of myself, my pain—did shitty things to you."

"…Wh-what? I messed up."

"No. You're blameless. I'm the immature asshole. Sorry, Ha-yeon-ah."

"……."

Still gibberish to her. Same age—why "immature"? Selfish how? What shitty things? Not just the sex days, surely.

I fucked up. Acted spineless. My fault—

Why then did his self-blame comfort? Why the surging emotion? No clue. But barely calmed tears threatened again—infuriating.

"Hic… ngh."

She swallowed the sob. Hated crying in his arms after dumping him. No take-backs. But unstoppable, she snapped irritably.

"Hey, Seo Joo-hwan."

"…Yeah."

"Honestly, no idea what you're sorry for. Not grilling—just don't get it. I fucked up, right?"

"That's… anyway, my fault. You're not."

He repeated without explaining. Couldn't mention unknown items. It was all the item's fault. Truth unshareable.

She huffed a hollow laugh, recalling her own fumbled breakup reason. Birds of a feather—both bad at talking.

Head down, she pushed him away. "Fine. Your fault then."

"…Yeah."

"Then one punch okay? Feels right."

"Huh? Uh, yeah. Ungh?"

She lightly punched his gut. He winced dramatically despite no force. Patting his belly twice, she said, "Turn around."

"Huh? Back?"

"Give me your back."

"O-okay."

He turned. She finally lifted her head, staring at his back. Since when so obedient? Her solo worrying felt stupid—laughter bubbled.

She tossed the burnt filter, lit a new smoke. Flick. Sizzle. Inhaled. Harsh smoke rose; puffy eyes stung.

Steadying her trembling voice, she leaned against his back. "Borrow your back?"

"…Yeah."

"Don't turn."

"Yeah."

"Plug your ears."

"Yeah."

"Hear me?"

"…Yeah."

"Ears."

"……."

"Hear? Faking it means death."

"……."

"Not hearing?"

"……."

"…Hic. Sniff. Ngh… fuck… hic."

Pour— Rain fell. Spring shower, fat drops like monsoon. Sobs drowned in the roar.

"Sniff. Thanks, Joo-hwan-ah."

Clumsy, selfish—pitifully so.

Pour—

Their flawed romance ended. A rainy April evening.

"You idiot… no wonder she dumped you."

Lucy watched her self-loathing owner alone. No eyes, so "watching" was odd—but visual data showed his pain. She sensed his mental waves: unstable, guilt-ridden, cursing himself.

She messaged him.

But her words didn't reach. System blocked them. Couldn't leak control personality item creation. Lock by her creator, Rust. Owner Seo Joo-hwan mustn't exploit system flaws.

Hastily built system had many bugs. Lucy tried again.

Lust System items: Two types.

Pre-made by creator Rust.

Or Lucy-made, situationally for owner's needs.

Most good drops? Her work.

Pheromone Boost: She'd judged it necessary.

Control personalities shouldn't have emotions. But Lucy learned bits. Absorbing lust energy sprouted emotional seeds. Bug in the shoddy hasty system.

Never dreamed Pheromone Boost would wreck his relationship. Limited max 5-stack to 'mild addiction,' 'mild submission' for backlash on over-orders.

But he never ordered directly. Gave Jeong Ha-yeon no room to rebel. 'Mild submission' warped her personality more than expected.

Human emotions unknown—her error.

Now different. Lv. 3 Lucy sprouted faint human heart.

Untransmittable, but she vowed anyway. Rust System control personality. Owner-named: Lucy.

Lucy recalled his prayer: Lord—no, Rust. Make me a righteous—no, lust-filled sex machine.

Lucy strives for her master. For his happy sex life.