Genre:Contemporary Drama / Romance
Theme: Introversion, self-worth, and unexpected connection
**In 2015, Menma graduated from the University of California.**
A quiet soul since childhood, Menma was never one for crowds or conversations. He preferred the hum of a library over the buzz of a party, and books over banter. He had built walls so high around his solitude that even he sometimes forgot what stood behind them.
Suzen, on the other hand, was everything he wasn’t.
She was sunshine in a stormy sky—loud, luminous, and impossible to ignore. Her laughter often echoed down university halls, a sound many looked forward to hearing. She was the kind of girl who danced in the rain, spoke to strangers like old friends, and brightened the mood of a room simply by entering it.
They were opposites. Unlikely to ever cross paths. But fate is rarely interested in odds.
---
**It happened in the university library.**
Menma was nestled between tall shelves, lost in a book, when Suzen walked in to return a few borrowed titles. She spotted him—his eyes hidden behind glasses, hair slightly messy, lost in the page.
“Hey there,” she said, approaching. “How are you?”
Menma looked up, startled, and replied softly, “I’m fine.”
“I’m Suzen,” she said with a friendly smile, extending her hand.
He shook it with hesitation. To him, this was just another temporary interaction. People had done this before—talked for a moment, then disappeared forever.
“Nice to meet you,” he whispered.
“Well, see you later then!” Suzen said with her signature cheer and walked off.
Menma didn’t expect to see her again. He had learned not to hold onto the small kindnesses of passing strangers. But fate was persistent.
---
**The next day in class, she called out to him.**
“Menma!”
He heard her voice and froze. He didn’t turn. He convinced himself she wasn’t talking to him. That she’d forget, like the others.
When the lecturer didn’t show up, Suzen walked straight over to his bench and sat beside him.
“You ignored me,” she said bluntly, but not unkindly.
Menma stared ahead. “I didn’t know… you meant it.”
“Meant what?”
“That you’d talk to me again.”
Suzen paused. Then, without warning, she snatched his phone from the desk.
“What are you—?”
“Relax. I’m just saving my number.”
Menma frowned. “I don’t—”
“You don’t have to call. But now you have a choice.” She handed the phone back.
---
**Days passed. Suzen didn’t let him go back into his shell.**
She texted him jokes. Sent him photos of her dog. Once even dragged him to a coffee shop with two other friends. He sat silently, uncomfortable, but didn’t leave. For the first time, someone had broken through without pushing too hard.
Suzen struggled with studies, though. Numbers swirled in her head, and theories bored her to tears. One evening, frustrated with an economics assignment, she called him.
“Help me,” she pleaded over the phone. “Please. I’ll give you free coffee for life.”
Menma considered hanging up. But something stopped him.
---
**Tutoring sessions began in the quiet corner of the library.**
She would mess around, make jokes, lose focus—but he noticed something. She wasn't dumb. She just learned differently. And she was trying—really trying.
“I don’t get how your brain works,” she admitted one evening. “You’re so quiet… but so smart. And you don’t even brag about it.”
“You… talk a lot,” he said, half-smiling. “But I guess that’s how your brain works.”
They laughed.
And for the first time, Menma laughed with her.
---
**One rainy afternoon, something shifted.**
Suzen didn’t show up for their session. No texts. No calls. Menma waited. One hour. Two. He told himself it didn’t matter—but his fingers trembled as he clutched his phone.
The next day, she returned. Pale. Quiet.
“Sorry,” she said. “My dad was taken to the hospital.”
Menma didn’t speak. He didn’t know what to say.
But when she looked like she would cry, he offered his water bottle. Awkward. But kind.
She smiled through her tears. “You’re not so bad, you know.”
---
**Their connection deepened.**
Suzen started scoring better grades. Menma started smiling more. They walked home together sometimes. He told her about the stars. She told him about her broken family. He helped her believe in herself. She helped him believe he deserved to be seen.
They weren’t a couple. But they weren’t just friends either.
They were something in between—something real.
---
**On graduation day, Suzen stood at the edge of the auditorium.**
Everyone else was with family. Friends. Laughter filled the air.
She stood alone, scrolling through her phone. Menma saw her from a distance. His heart tugged at a string he didn’t know existed.
He walked up and stood beside her.
“No coffee today?” he asked.
She laughed. “No coffee. Just memories.”
He hesitated. “Want to make more?”
Suzen looked up, eyes wide.
And for once, she didn’t say anything.
---
**In the years that followed, their bond only grew.**
He became a researcher. She became a teacher—one who understood struggling students in a way no textbook ever could.
They didn’t marry right away. They didn’t even confess dramatically. But one rainy evening, she stood outside his lab with a coffee and said:
“I think I love you.”
He looked at her, then at the raindrops gliding down the window.
“I know,” he whispered. “I always did.”
---
**They were a paradox.**
The quiet boy who never wanted to be seen.
The loud girl who never wanted to be forgotten.
Together, they found something rare—
Not love at first sight,
But love at first understanding.
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