Rain had a way of showing up when things fell apart.
It dripped through the edges of Rin's hoodie, soaked the hem of his jeans, clung to his lashes like grief that refused to wash away. The air reeked of wet pavement and high places—reminding him of the night his brother's body was found lying at the foot of the university library.
It had been 365 days. And not one of them had made sense.
The police called it suicide.
The school labeled it a tragedy.
The Han family sent flowers.
And Than—Than Han, golden boy of the elite, the son of a tycoon and the face behind every soulless press statement—disappeared behind the steel gates of his father's empire and never looked back.
But now, someone wanted Rin to.
He clutched the damp letter in his hoodie pocket like it was a match ready to ignite. Four words, in handwriting he hadn't seen in a year:
> "Than Han. Ask him why."
He didn't know who sent it. He didn't care.
He'd spent the past year screaming at the world and getting silence in return. But if Than knew something—if he'd been there that night—then Rin would tear the truth out of him, even if it meant dragging them both down with it.
---
The lobby of HanCorp was glass and marble and coldness pretending to be luxury. People in suits walked past him like he was invisible. Maybe he was.
He rode the elevator in silence, watching the floor numbers light up one by one. His reflection stared back from the polished chrome: hollow-eyed, unshaven, wearing the same hoodie he'd worn the day after the funeral.
The 11th floor opened into silence.
No receptionist. No guards. Just a long corridor and the low thrum of rain against the windows.
At the end of the hallway was a glass office, backlit in gold. And inside, standing with his hands in his pockets like he owned time, was Than Han.
Even from a distance, Rin felt it—that stillness, that smug energy he remembered from school debates and charity events their parents forced them to attend. Than had always been composed, unreadable, sharp like broken glass you couldn't help but touch.
And now, he was staring directly at him.
Rin stepped inside without knocking. The door clicked shut behind him.
Than didn't move.
"Rin," he said, like they were old friends meeting after a holiday instead of enemies bound by death.
"You look like shit."
Rin's laugh came sharp. "Still better than looking like you."
Than's smile was lazy. Unbothered. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Rin tossed the letter onto the desk. It landed between them like a loaded gun.
"Don't play dumb."
Than didn't even glance at it. He walked around the desk slowly, coming to stand just a foot away, hands still in his pockets.
"You think I sent that?"
"I think you know something." Rin's voice was low, cracking under the weight of everything he'd been holding in. "I think you were there that night."
Than's expression didn't change. But something behind his eyes did.
"And what if I was?"
Rin's pulse spiked.
"Then tell me why my brother died."
Silence.
Than stepped even closer, and for a second, Rin forgot how to breathe. The scent of his cologne—spiced wood and winter—hit like a memory he didn't want.
"You think the truth will help you sleep at night?" Than asked softly. "You think I can give you peace?"
"I don't want peace," Rin hissed. "I want answers."
"You want someone to blame."
Rin snapped. He shoved Than hard against the desk. The thud echoed through the room. Than didn't fight back. He just stared at Rin like he was trying to figure out if this was grief or obsession.
"Tell me what you did!" Rin's hands trembled on Than's shirt. "Tell me why he jumped!"
"I didn't push him," Than said quietly.
"But you were there."
Than's jaw tightened. He didn't deny it.
"You didn't stop him."
Than's lips parted. Then closed again.
That was enough.
Rin pulled away like he'd been burned. His breath was ragged, heart pounding in his ears.
"You're a monster."
Than stepped back into the shadows near the window. He looked at the rain outside like it might answer for him.
"No," he said, so quietly Rin almost missed it. "I just stopped pretending to be anything else."
Rin turned to leave. But then Than said, "He didn't jump because of me. But I didn't stop him either. That's your truth."
Rin froze.
"And the rest?" he asked without turning around.
Than's voice was hollow. "The rest would ruin you."
---
Outside, the storm finally broke.
Inside, two boys stood in the ruins of a friendship, a death, a truth neither of them wanted.
And neither knew they'd only just begun to unravel.
---
End of Chapter 1