Rain hammered the college roof like a thousand tiny drums. Aarav gripped the handlebars of his bicycle and watched each drop splash upward from the pavement. His sneakers were already dark with water. He did not move. He only watched.
He noticed her. A girl stood beneath the banyan tree, pressing a notebook against her chest as if it could keep the rain out. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, watching the water gather at her sneakers. Aarav thought: she will stay there all day.
Aarav reached behind the bike seat and pulled out a bright yellow umbrella. He pushed it open with one firm tug — it snapped wide. He stepped off the dry concrete and into the rain.
"I can share this," Aarav said, raising the umbrella toward her. The girl looked at the rain, then at him, and stepped out from under the tree. She walked beside him, and the yellow dome covered them both.
The rain drummed harder. A rubber duck on a blue plastic lid drifted past in the flooded gutter, spinning slowly. Aarav bent down and fished it out, water streaming from his fingers. "It was on an adventure," the girl said, taking the duck.
She set the duck on a dry patch of sidewalk. It sat there, bobbing slightly in the wind. Aarav smiled. "Right," he said. "An adventure." The yellow umbrella trembled overhead.
The wind hit with a sharp crack. The umbrella flipped inside out. Aarav dropped his grip and held the twisted black ribs. He stared at it. The girl laughed — a bright sound that cut right through the rain.
"It's just the rain playing," she said, tugging his sleeve. She pulled him forward into the open downpour, away from the shelter, away from the bike, away from the dry concrete.
They stopped at the edge of the college grounds. The path ended in a narrow strip of grass leading to a small bridge over a swollen drain. Both of them were dripping. Aarav's sneakers were soaked through.
The girl shook water from her hair and looked at him. A grin spread across her face. Aarav looked at the rain falling around them — silver and steady — and thought: maybe this is not the end of the walk.
Aarav did not move toward his bike. He stood in the rain, water pooling around his shoes, and looked at the bridge, the drain, the grey sky. He looked back at her. She did not look away.
The rain kept drumming. The bridge stayed wet. The duck — wherever it was — was still on its adventure. Aarav stepped sideways, just one step, and stood beside her instead.