Warm pastries... Cozy, with a golden crust, they barely peeked out from behind the counter, temptingly beckoning, promising a moment of sweet comfort and peace. Above the entrance hung a beautiful sign, which seemed to glow even through the gray twilight created by the inclement day. And outside the window - a fucking downpour! Thick streams of water fell from the sky, forcefully hitting the ground, forming small lakes on the pavement, drowning out the whole world with their inexorable song.

Kazutora, almost maddened by the sudden flood, rushed as fast as he could along the street, trying to escape this merciless rain. Wet clothes stuck to his body, his hair became heavy, water flowed from it, turning every step into torment. The wind threw drops in his face, grabbed his neck with a cold hand and drove him forward.

Finally running into the bakery, Kazutora stopped abruptly, like a lost kitten who had burst in from the street and suddenly found himself in a warm place. He shook off the water desperately, shuddering with every movement, as if trying to shake off the burden of the last few minutes. At that moment, the world was concentrated in a single sensation - how cold wet clothes were slowly warmed by the warmth inside.