Chapter 20: Ink Between Raindrops
The rain was soft today. Not the heavy, flood-threatening sort, but a persistent drizzle that painted everything in gentle shades of gray. It slipped down windowpanes like silent music and clung to leaves in trembling beads. In this hush, the world seemed to pause—just enough for a man like Abid to breathe without rushing.
He sat cross-legged on the cool floor of his apartment, his knees tucked under a blanket, a cup of warm lemon tea within arm's reach. His tablet lay before him, open to the drafting screen of his newest short manga, *The Lantern That Never Landed*. Though the system hadn't set a deadline, the story whispered to him in moments like these, when the city was still and the sky offered only rain.
[System Reminder:
Emotional Weather Detected – "Contemplative Rain"
Creative Environment Bonus: +10% Panel Atmosphere
Suggestion: Use washed-out tones, high-contrast shadows]
Outside, Dhaka carried on. The honks and shouting were distant today, softened behind fogged glass. Somewhere below, a mother called her child back from puddles. A kettle whistled. A rooftop rooster crowed late, confused by the cloudy morning.
Abid's stylus hovered above the screen. He didn't press down right away.
A notification blinked.
[Incoming Message – Origin: Elderwin Realm
From: Scribe Kairon]
He opened it.
[Dear Abid,
Today, the rain came late. Most of our ink is damp now, but no one seems to mind. The lanterns from last night floated farther than expected. One drifted into the old watchtower near the lake. Children chased it, thinking it might carry blessings.
We all read *Soup at the Edge of the Forest* this morning. Liran, the baker's apprentice, cried quietly. He said it reminded him of the night his brother came home after two winters away. I think your story helped him speak something he hadn't before.
Thank you for that.
I have enclosed a few reader sketches in return. They're rough, but full of love.
–Kairon]
Attached were hand-scanned pages from fantasy-world readers. One drawing showed the soup scene, recreated from memory with thick lines and childlike proportions. Another was a portrait of the traveler, now imagined as a kind-faced woman in a cloak of stitched leaves.
Abid stared at the drawings for a long time.
He wasn't used to praise. Certainly not praise that came across dimensions.
[System Passive Detected: Reader Resonance – Level 1
Achievement Unlocked: "A Story Worth Holding"
Perk Gained: +5% Long-Term Engagement
Emotional Echo Active for 24 hours]
He saved the images into a private folder. Then, quietly, he got up and changed into a clean cotton kurta. A small ritual for the sake of respect, even if no one would see him.
Back at his desk, he opened a blank side project and began sketching from the Elderwin children's fan art. Not to correct, not to remake—just to meet them halfway. His lines echoed theirs. Messy, expressive, warm.
He titled the collection *Paper Windows* and saved it to the system's optional archive.
[Archive Note Created: "The artist is listening."
+1 to Cross-Realm Trust (Children's Literacy Guild)]
A soft chime rang. A new request.
[System Mission Available:
Title: "Gift for a Rainy Day"
Objective: Create a 4-panel one-shot for young readers
Constraints: No combat, no tragedy, include a pet or imaginary friend
Reward: Child Reader Badge – Bronze Tier, 50 Spirit Ink, 1 Rare Brush Tool]
He accepted with a simple nod.
The idea formed quickly. A child, stuck indoors on a rainy day, draws a friend on the wall. The drawing comes to life when touched by rain leaking through a cracked window. Together, they dance in puddles, paint clouds, and share silence. When the rain ends, the friend fades, but the wall remains stained with colors.
Simple. Gentle. Enough.
He sketched without pause for two hours, letting the softness guide him. No grand statements. Just the rhythm of raindrops and a child's quiet joy.
[Upload Complete – "The Wall Friend"
System Rating: 91%
Reader Queue: 174 (Young/Education Tier)]
Abid leaned back. His eyes drifted toward the window.
The rain had stopped.
He stood and stretched, feeling the stiffness in his spine. Outside, the street shimmered, silver and damp. A vendor walked past, balancing a basket of steamed buns on his head, calling out gently to potential buyers. A pair of children raced ahead of their mother, splashing purposefully through shallow puddles.
For once, Abid felt no need to draw the moment. He just watched.
\[System Status:
Current Soul Temperature – Gentle
Recommended Action: Light outdoor walk, no device interaction
Bonus: 5% increase in Inspiration Retention for next 4 hours]
He smiled, just faintly, and left the tablet charging.
---
When he returned an hour later, after walking two blocks and buying a sesame bun from the old vendor on the corner, a new message waited.
\[New Review – Origin: Elderwin Realm
From: Reader Alias "FennelTea42"
Review:
"I liked the part where the friend left colors behind. I think people leave colors too, even when they go away. Thank you for showing that."]
The simplicity of it caught him off guard.
He reread the line five times.
Then he whispered, as if to no one, "People leave colors…"
It was raining again.
But this time, it didn't feel like a storm or a weight. It was something to listen to. Something that carried meaning between the spaces he'd once thought were empty.
Abid turned back to his tablet and opened a new canvas.
He didn't know yet what the story would be called.
But it would begin with a single raindrop falling on a forgotten drawing—and the sound of quiet footsteps behind.