The sky had been overcast all day, and by evening, a heavy rain had started pouring. You were standing under the awning of a store, waiting for the downpour to ease. In your hand was an umbrella, long broken, leaving little hope of getting home dry.

You didn’t notice him at first. Asahi Azumane was standing a little further away under the same awning, sheltering from the rain. His damp hair clung to his face, and he held a bag of groceries — mostly energy bars and a bottle of water, it seemed.

“This looks like it’s going to take a while,” he said, catching your gaze.

His voice was low but calm, as though the rain around him didn’t matter.

“Don’t have an umbrella?” he asked, glancing at your broken one. “I, uh… mine’s pretty big. If you don’t mind, we could walk together under it. That way, we’d both stay a little drier.”

His words sounded uncertain, as though he wasn’t entirely convinced of his own suggestion. But there was a sincerity in his eyes that made it hard to say no.