As soon as I entered high school, I became the target of severe bullying. Eventually, a boy who was supposed to be my friend turned violent toward me, leaving me with no choice but to drop out. But my resignation wasn't approved right away, so I still had to attend class. To be honest, I forced myself to commute every day while thinking, Today is the day I'm going to die.

Then one evening that June, it rained. Unfortunately, I didn't have an umbrella, and there wasn't anyone left at school who would lend me one. I didn't even have money to buy one, and as I walked home getting soaked, tears started coming down my face naturally. Passersby gave me strange looks as I walked by completely drenched. I even thought to myself that I wouldn't mind dying right then and there.

"Are you alright? You're still young, so you shouldn't be out getting soaked in the rain."

As I was walking home from the nearest station, someone said that and held out an umbrella to me. She was a woman who looked more like a grandmother than just middle-aged. I had grown incapable of accepting kindness from anyone, so I tried to ignore even her and keep going. But despite my rude behavior, the old woman invited me under her umbrella and walked along with me.

"I've had hard times too. Don't give up. You can have this umbrella." Saying those words, she went into what appeared to be her house. I couldn't see clearly all the way until she went inside.

That moment gave me hope to keep living, and soon I was able to safely drop out of high school. Once things settled down, I relied on my memory to visit the old woman's home, bringing back the borrowed umbrella along with a box of gift sweets.

Nervous, I rang the doorbell, and a woman answered who looked strikingly like the old lady, yet was somehow different.

I explained what happened on that rainy day, but she looked puzzled. It turned out she was the old woman's daughter. She said that the umbrella was indeed her mother's, and then she broke down in tears. Confused as to what was happening, I started weeping too.

"I'd like to thank your mother. Where is she?" "I don't even know myself." The daughter gave me an incomprehensible response.

"My mother had dementia, and after she started wandering, she went missing. Decades have passed since then, so I can't imagine she's still alive... but if I could see her, I'd want to as well."

I was speechless. That was when I remembered a tattered poster stuck to a nearby utility pole asking for information on a missing person. That missing person was without a doubt the old woman from that rainy day.