Fall From Top

The sky had darkened. Thick, heavy clouds loomed overhead, and raindrops began to fall one by one—at first gently, then all at once, as if the heavens had opened. A quiet stillness spread through the campus as umbrellas bloomed in the storm.

Among them, a single black umbrella tilted slightly, collecting droplets that slid silently off its edge. Beneath it stood a boy in a black school coat, unbuttoned and fluttering in the breeze. His face was calm—too calm for a day like this. It was him—our protagonist.

He watched the raindrops fall for a second longer, as if each one carried a message only he could hear. Then, without hurry, he began walking toward the dormitory building, his shoes splashing softly against the wet concrete.

High above, on the rooftop of the dormitory, stood another boy—Sudo. His crimson hair, soaked and clinging to his forehead, matched the frustration twisting across his face. Water dripped down his chin, joining the puddles forming near his feet. In his clenched fists were bent pieces of steel, perhaps parts of a railing or pipe—objects crushed under the weight of his anger and despair.

He muttered bitterly under his breath.

"Why am I such a burden...? First I nearly fail the exams, then I almost get wrongly expelled… Why…?"

Just then, the sound of an elevator dinged nearby.

The doors opened, and stepping out with slow, deliberate steps—umbrella now closed—was the black-coated boy.

Sudo's expression hardened. "Why are you here?" he spat, the rain doing nothing to cool his rising fury.

The boy didn't answer right away. He calmly pulled out a notebook from within his coat, rain already beginning to dampen its cover. Then he looked up and said with an unreadable smile,

"Sudo... yup, it was you who almost got expelled. Twice."

Sudo's eyes narrowed.

The boy stepped closer, placing the notebook into his hand.

"What is this?" Sudo asked warily, his voice quieter now.

The boy took a step back. With the air of a magician revealing his final trick, he said softly,

"Your key to success."

Then, without another word, he walked toward the edge of the rooftop.

Before Sudo could react, the boy turned his head slightly, smiled faintly, and jumped.

"Wait—!" Sudo reached out, but the boy was already falling.

A crack, a thud, and then silence.

At the ground below, a broken body lay twisted in the mud, red mixing with brown as the rain washed over him. Blood spread slowly through the dirt like ink bleeding through paper.

Gasps rose from nearby students. Some cried out in shock. Others whispered behind their hands.

"He finally did it…"

"…Serves him right, that freak…"

"Crazy bastard…"

Sudo stood frozen at the edge, staring down, rain still pouring around him.

He looked at the notebook in his hand.

Then muttered under his breath,

"Stupid… indeed."

The rain hadn't stopped.

By the lifeless body sprawled in the mud, the wind stirred again—soft, almost respectful. A green leaf detached from a nearby branch, danced gently through the air, and then, like everything else, succumbed to gravity, landing near the fallen boy. It, too, grew heavy with water and sank into the mud.

And then—crack.

With a sudden twitch, the body moved.

A low groan escaped the boy's lips. Blood trickled from his brow. Mud clung to his cheeks. Raindrops painted his face anew, as if washing away death itself. He blinked rapidly, coming back to his senses.

Still lying down, he murmured under his breath, "That exit was fake…? I want my money back… How could they do that? I nearly died… I'm filing a case against those anime studios…"

Slowly, painfully, he pushed himself up. Every limb screamed. Every bone ached. But he was alive. Somehow.

With squelching footsteps, he dragged himself toward a wooden bench that remained mostly dry beneath the thick canopy of a tree.

And then he heard it—a quiet, broken sobbing from the other side of the tree.

"…I really loved you… Why… why did that happen? Can't you forgive me…?"

It was a boy, on his knees, head bowed. His uniform was soaked through, his hair plastered to his forehead, and his face was twisted by grief. Rain mixed with tears as he stared at the ground, watching each droplet ripple the puddle forming beneath him.

The mud beneath the boy was turning to liquid, as unstable as his emotions.

Just then, a faint tap came on his shoulder—a wet hand. He turned quickly, startled.

Standing behind him, face streaked with mud and blood, hair drenched, and black coat clinging to his body… was the boy he had once mocked.

The same boy who had just jumped from a rooftop.

"…You…?" the timid boy whispered, guilt rushing to his eyes.

"I… I'm sorry… It was God's punishment… My love fell apart… because I beat a mentally unstable person…"

The protagonist looked at him silently for a moment, then sighed, and slumped down beside him under the tree.

With his back against the trunk, he let the cold seep in and muttered, "Bro… why are you so emotional?"

The timid boy blinked through the mist in his eyes, then, with surprising intensity, began to speak.

He spoke of her. Of her smile. Of the way she used to wait for him with coffee. Of the letters they exchanged. Of the dreams they whispered when no one else was listening. He spoke like someone who had lost a universe.

Stars shimmered in his wet eyes.

When he finished, there was silence.

Then the protagonist scoffed lightly, shaking his head.

"If your love can be broken by a misunderstanding… was it really love?"

That hit deep.

The timid boy clenched his fists. His eyes burned. "You don't understand anything about love!"

A slow smile crept across the protagonist's bruised face.

"I don't," he said. "I've never fallen in love. And I won't. To me, love is a dark, deep well. If you fall in, you might keep drowning your whole life. But…"

He looked up through the branches at the gray sky.

"I can pretend to love."

He stood, rain trailing down his chin like a curtain closing on a scene.

"Maybe… you should clarify everything," he said softly. "Before a new chapter of love begins in her life."

Then, with a slow step and dragging feet, he walked away toward the dormitory, his figure growing smaller against the rain.

The boy stared at his retreating back—stunned, silent—wondering whether he had just met a ghost, a fool, or someone who understood far more than he claimed.