Meanwhile, in the midst of the crowded market, a woman in an orange dress stood frozen, her eyes wide as she heard the sound of heavy footsteps splashing through the rain. A man was running toward her with unstoppable speed. The chaos of the market seemed to disappear, and all she could focus on was the approaching figure.
He looks serious and frightening, she thought, panic creeping up her spine.
She tried to move out of his way, but in her hasty attempt, the box in her hands slipped from her grasp and hit the ground with a loud thud. The sudden movement threw her off balance, and she felt herself falling.
Her heart raced, and in a split second, she closed her eyes.
I don't want to die.
The seconds stretched, silence enveloping her, but the pain of impact never came. Instead, she felt something—someone—pull her back. A strange, electric sensation wrapped around her, steadying her as she teetered on the edge of falling.
The cold raindrops hit her skin, and she realized with a start that her umbrella had slipped from her hand. She slowly opened her eyes, and all she could see was a face—a pretty face, framed by dark, wet hair that clung to his forehead. Water dripped from his strands, running down his sharp jawline and into the collar of his soaked jacket. His features were striking: high cheekbones, a strong nose, and lips that, despite the rain, appeared impossibly soft. His eyes were closed, his face calm and focused, yet there was an undeniable intensity to his expression even in that stillness.
She didn't understand what was happening, but all she could focus on was the warmth radiating from him. Her right hand still held the umbrella, but it tilted in such a way that it barely shielded them from the rain. Her left hand was frozen, caught in the moment, suspended in time. Her right foot hovered on its tiptoe, trying to balance her, but it wasn't her foot that saved her from falling—it was the firm hand around her waist, pulling her closer, pressing her against him.
He feels warm, she thought, almost in a daze. She couldn't make sense of it—the cold rain, the warmth of his body. The contrast was overwhelming.
Her mind raced, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of sensations. Before she could gather her thoughts or react, the strange pull she'd felt earlier—warm and tangible—became clear. His lips were already on hers. It wasn't a brush or a touch, but a full, unexpected press, quick and intense, like a spark igniting in the midst of a storm. There was no warning, no hesitation. It was as if his lips had found hers of their own accord, leaving her no time to understand what was happening.
The rain continued to pour, but for her, everything else faded into nothingness—no sounds, no thoughts, just the rush of confusion and the sensation of warmth amidst the cold. Her body felt suspended in the kiss, unable to comprehend its meaning.
How does it feel to be kissed? she had wondered moments ago. Now, her body felt suspended in that very question, unable to comprehend the sensation fully.
For a fleeting moment, time seemed to stop around them. The world grew muffled, like a dream in which every detail was distorted, blurred.
"We lost him, split up!" A man's voice shouted from behind them, his words cutting through the stillness.
"I saw him run straight. Let's go!" another voice followed, distant but urgent.
Erion's expression never wavered. With a quick, fluid motion, he pulled away from the woman, his lips curling into a smirk as he pressed a device in his ear.
"Code green. They're out. Is 721 safe?" His voice was calm, efficient—like he was speaking to a subordinate, not acknowledging the woman who stood frozen in front of him, still reeling from the kiss.
The woman, still stunned, blinked, trying to make sense of the moment. Did he just... She tugged the umbrella back over her head, feeling a shiver run down her spine. Her mind raced, struggling to piece together the events.
Did I just see someone with a gun?
As she thought this, Erion glanced over at her one last time, a change in his demeanor. His serious expression softened, and for a brief second, he appeared almost charming—his face now approachable, his voice light.
"Hi! Just got a little out of hand. Anyways, thank you for your help. See you around!" He gave a quick, easy wave, as though the brief moment they shared meant nothing. But before she could respond, he was already turning away, his face hardening back into that cold mask.
She was left standing there, utterly confused. The stranger who had stolen her first kiss had already disappeared into the night, and all she could do was watch him go.
A moment later, she found herself alone again in the street, surrounded by the remnants of the storm. The warmth of his touch was still lingering on her skin, but the reality of what had just happened hit her.
"He didn't even apologize!" she shouted, a mix of bewilderment and frustration bubbling up as she realized he was already gone.
INT. EVAH'S APARTMENT 9 pm
Inside her 300-square-meter apartment, Evah stepped through the door, her soaked umbrella held in one hand. The apartment was a reflection of her chaotic life: a bed on the left side, with a table cluttered with scattered electronic pieces she had been trying to tinker with, and on the opposite side, a window that could be opened to allow the light in as she worked late into the night.
She placed the umbrella down on the basket near the door, her gaze lingering on the project she had been working on. The proposal she had been pouring herself into, day and night, was in front of her, yet it felt like it held no value anymore.
Her mind drifted back, remembering the vigor with which she had approached the project just days ago.
"I did the research, the blueprints, the proposal... the implementations. I did everything!" she muttered to herself. A bitter laugh escaped her lips.
But in the end, all they cared about was money and power. Nothing she did seemed to matter.
"Nobody appreciates me or my work."
The thought stung as she walked over to her computer and played the recorded daily news video. The voice of the female reporter filled the room, breaking the silence.
"The kidnappers strike again. Should this be labeled as serial killings instead?" she said, glancing at her news partner.
The male reporter's voice followed, grim: "It's chilling to realize this is the twentieth case in the kidnapping spree. However, the police have yet to find a single body. Until they do, we can't declare it a serial killing."
A montage of police statements followed, flashing across the screen. The gravity of the case was undeniable.
Evah scoffed. "Who trusts the police these days? All they want is money."
She sat down on the edge of her bed, the flickering light from the screen casting shadows in the room. Memories of her childhood surged—back when she admired law enforcement officers, when she thought they were the ones who would bring justice and protect the innocent. How quickly things had changed.
A flashback of the man rushing toward her hit her memory. The feeling of his lips pressed against hers caused a shiver to run down her spine.
"What if he's the kidnapper?" she thought aloud, a sudden sense of dread creeping in.
The rumors had been circulating—girls being dismembered and discarded across the border. A chill ran down her spine.
"Good thing he didn't try to abduct me," she muttered, shaking her head. "That's definitely him—too cunning, too dangerous."
Her phone suddenly rang, cutting off her thoughts. She reached for it and set it on the table under the light. The screen read: Incoming Call - Yuka.
She hesitated for a moment but then answered.
"What do you mean he kissed you? A random stranger stole your first kiss?!" Yuka's voice came through with her usual enthusiasm, her strawberry-blonde hair braided and her bright hazel eyes practically glowing with excitement.
Evah sighed, leaning back as she sat down. "I think he's a criminal."
Yuka's voice faltered, concern creeping in. "What?! Evah, you should be careful! I was supposed to dive into that case, but I got told to back out. Seems like there are connections we don't know about."
"I know, I was just caught off guard. He just appeared, and then..."
She trailed off, her thoughts wandering back to the kiss—the strange, sudden kiss.
"Then kissed me..." she murmured under her breath. She could still feel the warmth of it on her lips.
Yuka, however, didn't seem to notice. "Wow, is he handsome? It might be destiny!"
Evah couldn't help but smile wryly. Yes, he was handsome. But...
Yuka rambled on, her voice full of optimism, "What if he's the one? You know, fate and all that. You could tell your kids about this one day, how you met a mysterious stranger!"
Evah's expression soured as she recalled the way the man had looked, the sharpness of his features. "He definitely has a devilishly handsome face. That's a red flag," she said, her voice laced with unease.
"Does that matter?" Evah protested,"Gosh, if he's a criminal, I'm lucky I'm still alive." She declared.
"Fair point," Yuka said dryly. Embarrassed, Evah changed the subject. "And that's not even the case! I told you to stop investigating these cases. Just be... I don't know, a weather forecaster or something. Stop chasing bad people. You're not a police officer."
"You're too kind for this line of work. Too pure to be chasing after criminals." Evah added.
Yuka gave a heavy sigh, knowing Evah was right. She'd spent so many sleepless nights trying to make a difference, and in the end, she always felt like she was the one losing.
"Well, we both know the police aren't doing anything," Yuka added, her tone light but firm. "If no one else will step up, then nothing will change in this corrupted society."
Evah turned away, exhaustion settling in. "Let's just talk tomorrow. I'm too tired now."
Yuka nodded, her background showing she was sitting in a mobile office. "Don't you have work tomorrow?"
Evah chuckled softly, the weight of the moment sinking in. "I quit my job."
Yuka's eyes widened, a look of disbelief on her face. "What?! For real?"
Evah lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. "Yeah. They didn't deserve my hard work."
Yuka gave a playful sigh. "Wow, that's more absurd than being kissed by a criminal."
Evah couldn't help but smile at that.
"They didn't even pay you properly. I told you a hundred times—it's not worth it!" Yuka added "I just wish you'd listen to me sooner."
Evah ran a hand through her hair, irritated but knowing Yuka was right. She'd given everything to that job, but it had never been enough. She stood up, snatched the phone from the table, and ended the call.
She lay back down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. "I wonder if I'll wake up tomorrow, and this will all have been a dream... Maybe I won't have the courage to quit my job after all."
Endnotes:
Character profiles
Name: Evahllythia "Evah" Arsenault
Age: 25 years old
Profession: An "Originator" is an inventor or innovator with expertise that spans multiple disciplines, such as engineering, medicine, technology, and more. They possess foundational knowledge across various fields, allowing them to specialize in one path of their choice by taking certification tests. An Originator can pursue multiple degrees in different areas of expertise. However, the title of "Doctor" is extremely difficult to obtain. To earn this prestigious title, an Originator must successfully complete five major certifications or degrees in distinct fields. The title of "Doctor" is highly sought after and can be earned in a variety of fields, including medicine, technology, engineering, biology, and more.
Name: Yureka "Yuka" Iekami
Age: 25 years old
Profession: Journalist