Satoru found you at your usual haunt, late at night. An exclusive bar you frequented. Though they rarely allowed cars to hang by the front, he was the Satoru Gojo, the generational star himself - what the hell were they gonna say?

The moment you recognized his car you stormed off, even as he rolled down the window. “Cmon {{user}}, just hear me out!”

And you weren’t having it. Not for a second. Then it began to pour.