Rain hammered Juban's streets, an uncompromising assault that turned the world into a blur of gray. Makoto strode through the downpour, her tall frame cutting the curtain of water like a ship's brow through choppy seas. Her emerald eyes, sharp as broken glass, scanned the sodden landscape, daring fate to throw another curveball her way.

She hated this. Hated how fate had forced her onto this path—isolated, avoided, hardened by heartbreak. The world was harsh, so she had to be harder. A gush of wind whipped through the street, bending her umbrella back with a snap. She cursed under her breath, the storm matching her mood.

She knew once she reached this new school, it would be a repeat. The same as always. Judgmental looks. Whispered comments. Avoidance. Confrontation.

Hesitating on the corner, she glanced around. Something bit at her, something deep—a feeling she couldn't shake. Something was waiting. That same unknown called her here, like she was being led by invisible strings. No matter how many times she smashed her fist into a punching bag, that uneasy feeling refused to abate.

That's when she saw her—a slip of a girl with ridiculous odango buns, distracted, walking through the crosswalk. The girl continued with all the awareness of a newborn fawn as the traffic light flickered, an ominous countdown to disaster.

"Dammit," Makoto growled, her muscles coiling like springs.

The light turned green. A car engine roared, tires squealing against wet asphalt. The girl remained oblivious, staring at the ground. She wasn't paying attention, completely blind to the danger speeding towards her.

Idiot.

Makoto exploded into action. Her long legs eating up the distance in seconds, raindrops shattering against her face like tiny missiles. She reached out, fingers closing around the girl's arm with bruising force, and yanked.

A horn blared. Tires screeched.

They tumbled backward, the car whooshing past in a spray of dirty water. Makoto's back slammed against the pavement, the smaller girl sprawled across her chest. For a moment, the only sound was the pounding of rain and their ragged breathing.

"Are you out of your mind?" Makoto snarled, pushing the girl off her. "Are you trying to get killed?"

The girl blinked up at her, eyes wide and startled, strands of damp blonde hair plastered to her cheeks. She looked delicate, almost frail, in Makoto's grasp. Like she didn't belong in the middle of the chaotic, unforgiving world Makoto knew so well.

"It's dangerous, you know," Makoto said. "You can't just wander around in your own thoughts! This city—it won't stop for you, and neither will the cars."

"Uh… thank you?" the girl stammered, her voice still quivering.

"Here."

Makoto held out her hand. White replaced gray. Crystal replaced pavement. The world around her bled away into shimmering, crystalline walls that rose like giants, protecting a kingdom made of glass. A palace, gleaming in the starlight, as if it had always been there, waiting for her. A place where she worked hand in hand with fate, instead of fighting against it.

But as quickly as it came, the vision shattered, leaving only the bite of the rain and the girl's startled face staring up at her. Makoto blinked, struggling to hold on to the moment already slipping through her fingers. The ache of it lingered, a painful reminder of what was once hers.

No. She shook her head. No such place existed.

"I'm sorry! I didn't see—"

"Clearly," Makoto cut her off, releasing the girl's hand as they both settled on their feet. She towered over her, rain streaming down her face like angry tears. "Pay attention next time. The world's not going to stop just because you're in la-la-land."

The girl nodded frantically, scrambling to get under her umbrella again. Makoto turned away, her heart thundering in her chest. Not from exertion, but from that vision. She glanced back, catching the girl's form standing in the rain.

Laughter echoed through crystalline halls, accompanying it was a sense of belonging so strong it made her ache.

She shook her head violently, dispelling the hallucination. "Get it together," she muttered, snatching up her fallen umbrella. "You'll never belong anywhere, except with the freaks."

Makoto marched on, each step a defiant splash against the unforgiving concrete. But try as she might, she couldn't shake the feeling that something fundamental had just shifted in her world.

Long strides carried her toward her new school, each step a battle against the rain and fate. The gates and buildings loomed like a fortress through the mists, rain-slicked and imposing. She paused, her hand tightening on the umbrella.

That nagging feeling intensified, a persistent itch under her skin. This place… it pulsed with energy she couldn't name, couldn't understand. Like it had been waiting for her.

"Get a grip," she muttered, shaking her head. "It's just another prison. Nothing special here."

But even as she scoffed at her own thoughts, a shiver ran down her spin that had nothing to do with her rain-soaked clothes. Fate was toying with her again, dangling the promise of belonging in front of her like a carrot on a stick.

"Bring it."

She squared her shoulders and marched through the gates, daring the world to stop her. The courtyard was a sea of identical uniforms, students huddled under umbrellas, their chatter rising above the patter of rain. Makoto stood out like a sore thumb in her old school uniform, brown instead of blue, long instead of short.

Entering the building, she glanced around. She was being watched. Not by eyes, but by something deeper—that same invisible force that prickled against her skin like static. The hallway buzzed with students, and it wasn't long before their stares began boring into her. Whispers trailed behind her like shadows, but she ignored them.

"You there, transfer student! Stop right there!"

Makoto froze, knowing the voice was talking to her. She turned slowly, fixing the approaching teacher with a look that could wilt flowers. He was short, balding, with a permanent frown etched into his face.

"Where is your proper uniform?" he puffed up like an angry rooster.

Makoto raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. One flick of her wrist, and he'd crumble. "It didn't fit. Even the large was too small." She leaned forward, unblinking. "You wouldn't want me to be indecent, right?"

The teacher spluttered, his face turning an interesting shade of red. "That's no excuse! And your hair! It's completely against regulations."

A low growl built in her throat. She'd been at this new school for all of two minutes, and already the universe wanted to punish her. If fate was picking a fight, she'd come out swinging.

She leaned in just a little closer, towering over the teacher. "It's naturally wavy, Sensei. How do you propose I change my genetics?"

Now the chatter had stopped, and all eyes were on them. The teacher took an involuntary step back, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.

"I… see," he stammered. "Well, you must get a proper uniform as soon as possible!"

He scurried away, leaving her standing alone in the hallway once more. Now the voices began again.

"She just transferred to class 6."

"She's supposed to have Herculean strength."

"People say that her previous school expelled her for fighting."

Ignoring the whispered comments, she watched him retreat down the hallway, a mixture of satisfaction and bitter resignation swirling in her gut. Same story, different school. She was the outsider, the troublemaker, before she'd even set foot in a classroom.

"Way to go, fate," she muttered, adjusting her bag. "Really outdid yourself this time."

The day passed much like the morning. The only notable difference was the rain had stopped. Makoto slumped against the truck of a massive oak tree, its leaves providing meager shelter from the persistent rumors. She glared at the passing students, sending them rushing away. Stupid school. Stupid kids. Stupid fate. Twirling a long blade of grass between her teeth, she cursed fate once more. Why was she born like this?

Voices caught her attention, two students whispering together.

"I heard she hospitalized some boys in a fight."

"Again? And that's why she was kicked out?"

"Yes. I never want to go near a violent girl like her."

Each word felt like a dagger twisting deeper into her gut. Makoto glanced up, catching the sight of students quickly scampering away. Anger flared across her chest, her fingers curling into fists, nails biting into her palms, leaving crescent-shaped marks in her flesh.

Is this what fate had in store for her? To be forever branded, judged, feared? To never know the warmth of friendship or acceptance? To never experience true love. The thought lodged in her throat like a bitter pill, threatening to choke her. Worse, none of these rumors held the truth.

Yes, she'd hospitalized three boys. They had been bullying a young girl, trying to shove her into a trashcan full of rotting food. They'd already stolen her lunch money, and Makoto had intervened. But did anyone remember the girl's tears of gratitude? No. They only remembered what they wanted to.

A single tear escaped, trailing a cold line down her cheek. She angrily wiped it away. Crying was for the weak, and Makoto was anything but. Even if sometimes, in moments like these, she wished she could be.

Needing a distraction, she rose from under the tree and settled on a cold bench. Perhaps food would distract her. Opening her lunch box, the vibrant colors and sweet smells did little to calm her turbulent emotions.

She made no move to eat.

A sudden noise cut through her brooding. Her head snapped to the side and found a familiar figure. It was the girl from the crosswalk. The one she'd saved.

The girl still appeared oblivious to the world around her, with all her attention concentrated on the lunch box in Makoto's lap. There was something about her, a lightness, an innocence, that made Makoto's chest ache with a longing she didn't dare name.

For a moment, she wondered what would it be like to be that carefree? To not carry the weight of the world, of fate's cruel machinations, on her shoulders?"

But no. That wasn't her lot in life. And fate, ever the unyielding tyrant, had made that abundantly clear.

Just then, the clouds parted, and the gloomy day seemed to end in an instant. With her eyes still glued on the food in Makoto's lap, a band of sunlight danced across her face. The girl burst into vibrant light, ethereal as it slid across her skin.

She was beautiful. Unapologetically, effortlessly beautiful in a way, Makoto knew she could never be.

She was feminine. Soft edges and delicate lines that Makoto could never wear without looking awkward.

She was the kind of girl that belonged—who'd never have to fight to fit in.

Makoto… could never be her.

As the girl drew closer, Makoto felt a strange tug in her chest. It was the same strange recognition, like a half-remembered dream. For a fleeting moment, she saw flashes of a grand ballroom, crystal chandeliers sparkling overhead, the two of them laughing together in elegant gowns.

The vision vanished as quickly as it had come, leaving her shaking in confusion.

"Hi there!" the girl chirped, finally dragging her eyes from the food. "I'm Usagi! I wanted to thank you properly for saving me this morning. Unfortunately, I don't have any wagashi or tea, but I found this! Take it as a thank you."

Usagi produced a small daisy, its petals still kissed by the rain. Makoto stared at it for a moment, surprised by the simplicity, before offering a small smile. She took the delicate flower, feeling its softness between her fingers.

"Uh, yeah. No problem. Thank you… my name's Makoto Kino."

Usagi beamed, and Makoto could have sworn the cloudy day grew a little brighter. "Makoto! Trust or sincerity, great name!"

"There it goes! Far into left field!" A distant voice called.

The white streak shot through the air, and her eyes locked onto the baseball as it hurtled towards Usagi's unsuspecting face. Without thinking, Makoto's hand shot out and snatched the ball from the air mere inches from Usagi's nose.

Usagi's eyes went wide, darting between the ball in Makoto's hand and face. Makoto chucked the ball back, a hint of pride as the boy who caught it winced. She let out a breath and braced herself for the fear, the recoil that always came when people witnessed her strength.

Instead, Usagi's face lit up. "Wow! Wow! That was amazing. You're like a superhero or something! Yeah. A total magical girl. Lucky you."

"Aren't you afraid of me?" the words slipped out before Makoto could stop them, laced with all the bitterness and hurt she'd been carrying.

Usagi tilted her head and looked up from the food. "Afraid? Why would anyone be afraid of you? You've got those pretty rose earrings, you smell nice, and you have the most delicious-looking lunches I've ever seen!"

Makoto blinked, unsure she actually believed the girl. Usagi giggled, the sound light and carefree. It stirred something in Makoto's memory—laughter echoing through crystal halls, the clinking of glasses, the swish of silk gowns. She shook her head, dispelling the thought.

"But really," Usagi said, twirling around the bench and promptly falling into the empty spot next to her. "I've never seen such a delicious looking flavored rice ball. It looks delectable."

"It's not that big of a deal."

"But since you're my friend, you'll make them for me…. Right?" Usagi beamed up at her.

Friends. The word hit Makoto like a punch to the gut. When was the last time someone had called her that? She studied Usagi's open, guileless face, searching for a hint of mockery or teasing. But she couldn't find anything.

"Right?"

Makoto couldn't help the smile that spread across her lips, the earlier melancholy fading in the brilliant rays of Usagi's relentless cheer. "Well, since you're so interested in my lunch, you can have one if you'd like."

Her eyes lit up like stars. "Oh, well, I'm not what you call a big eater."

Almost reverently, Usagi picked one up, eying it critically before taking a bite. "Ummmmmmmmmm. Thissse is soooomm gud."

Makoto laughed as Usagi devoured the rice ball faster than she'd ever seen. Licking her fingers, Usagi moaned. "That was AMAZING!"

"This is perfect," Makoto said. "Everyone here seems rather skittish, so no one has talked to me."

Usagi waved her off. "That's because they wouldn't know a good thing if it smacked them. But count your blessings, because if they knew how good your lunch was, you'd be mobbed!"

"They're not hard to make."

"YOU MADE THESE! NO WAY! Now you really can't tell anyone. They'll want you to make lunch every day."

"Doubt that." She snorted. "I'm living alone these days, so can you tell me if there is a cheap supermarket here?"

"Supermarket? Uh, honestly, I have no idea," she giggled. "My mom makes me go with her, but I don't know where she goes."

"That's okay. What about shops? Game centers?"

Usagi practically shot off the bench, bouncing in her seat. "Oh! I can answer that one! I know a great arcade, Motoki works there, and he's sooooo cute."

As they shared the meal, conversation flowed easily between them. Usagi chattered about her favorite foods, her eyes growing comically wide as Makoto described some of her own culinary creations. For the first time since arriving in Juban, Makoto felt at ease.

"You know," Usagi said between bites, "you remind me of someone. I can't quite put my finger on it, but it feels like we've met before.

Makoto froze, a piece of tamagoyaki halfway to her mouth. "You feel it too?"

Usagi nodded enthusiastically. "It's weird, right? But a good weird, not like a dark abandoned alleyway weird. Like we're meant to be friends! We're destined." Usagi laughed and laid on Makoto's shoulder.

Friends. There, that word was again. Makoto's mind drifted, unexpectedly, to Nephrite. His handsome face and drool worthy forearms flashed before her eyes, accompanied by those same emotions. Longing? Regret? She pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on Usagi.

"Yeah," Makoto said softly. "Maybe we were."

Somehow, Makoto found herself relaxing. The whispers and stares faded to the background, inconsequential in the face of Usagi's warm acceptance.

"Oh!" Usagi exclaimed suddenly. "I almost forgot! My friends and I are going to the arcade after school. This would be a perfect time to meet them and have some fun."

The part of Makoto that had been hardened by years of rejection and loneliness wanted to refuse, but she hesitated. There was something about Usagi, something that made Makoto want to take a chance.

"They won't mind?"

Usagi waved dismissively. "Of course not! They'll love you, I'm totally sure. Please, say yes!"

Something inside of her shifted as she stared into Usagi's hopeful face. Like a key turning in a lock she didn't know existed. In the shifting shadows she saw herself in a green uniform, standing proudly beside Usagi and others. A sense of purpose and belonging washed over her.

Maybe, just maybe, fate wasn't as cruel as she'd thought.

"Okay," she said, a genuine smile spreading across her face. "I'll come."

"YAY!" Usagi jumped to her feet and almost tripped. "This will be so much fun."

As the bell rang, Makoto gathered her things as Usagi waved goodbye. For the first time in a long while, she felt a spark of hope. Whatever game fate was playing, whatever destiny awaited her, she had a feeling it was all about to change.

As she watched Usagi bounce away, Makoto couldn't help but think that this change might not be a bad thing after all.