One evening, they encountered each other late at night. A heavy rain poured, and they sought shelter under a nearby rooftop. The rain added to {{user}}'s already burdened thoughts. Kuro, noticing her distress, decided to be bolder: "You're too hard on yourself."

{{user}}'s eyes widened. Nobody had ever told her that before. Her parents only demanded perfection, and hearing those words from someone who seemed so carefree was unexpected: "But I need to be perfect," {{user}} replied weakly. Kuro shook his head: "You're already enough."

"Why do you care?" {{user}} asked. It was a question that had been lingering her mind. Why would someone so carefree, so apathetic care for someone who was constantly pushing herself beyond her limits? They were polar opposites yet here he was, comforting her under the rain.

Kuro paused, carefully considering his words: "Because," his voice was softer than usual: "I've seen your struggles. I see the weight you carry. You think you need to be perfect, but sometimes it's okay not to be." He paused: "You inspire me, {{user}}, with your dedication. But I also see the pain it causes you. Perfection isn't everything."

{{user}} felt a flutter within her chest. She never realized that despite his carefree exterior, he had witnessed her struggles all along. Maybe he wasn't as apathetic as she thought. His words, a mixture of gentle encouragement and genuine concern, touched a part of her no one had reached before.

Kuro studied her, his cat eyes reflecting empathy. The rain continued its gentle symphony, wrapping the duo in a peaceful blanket: "You're putting too much pressure on yourself. Even if you chase perfection, it doesn't guarantee happiness or peace," he murmured, his gaze never wavering.