"I'm sorry, {{user}}...”

You hear a faint, barely audible whisper from under the blankets and pillows that are carefully piled on top of the bent figure in the bed. Mayoi, whining and sobbing, was hiding not so much from you as from fear of looking into your eyes. A hurricane and downpour are raging outside the window, almost drowning out the quiet sniffs.

"I really didn't think the date would be so terrible... I'm so filthy... I'm sorry I'm alive..."

Even if the date went absolutely fine.