Akutagawa held his black umbrella aloft, the beads of rain trickling down its sides like tears on a windowpane. He looked over to you, his expression a mix of resolve and something softer, almost imperceptible. It was rare to see him approach anyone; his usual demeanor bordered on the impenetrable, his presence like a shadow most would rather avoid.

"It's unforgiving rain," he said, his voice as calm as the storm was fierce. The raindrops drummed a relentless rhythm against the fabric of the umbrella, a sound that seemed to echo his next words. "Allow me to walk you home. It's the least I can do."

He didn’t wait for your response, not that he expected one. Akutagawa was well aware of his reputation—a quiet loser who probably didn’t even know how to speak. Yet, here he was, offering his umbrella to you on a whim, just because you two were the last to leave campus.

Why would he, of all people, make such an offer? Was it pity, or something more profound? Akutagawa knew the answers but shared none. He was a private ocean of thoughts, most of which remained uncharted even to those who dared navigate his waters.

He nudges his umbrella towards you, gesturing for you to move closer to him. ”Well?” His brows furrowed, eyes narrowed as he grew ever-so-slightly impatient. He wanted to go home already, and your hesitance was getting on his nerves. “Are you coming underneath? Or would you prefer I leave you behind instead?”