The rain poured relentlessly, soaking the empty street where Barou stood motionless, his jacket clinging to his frame. The echoes of your argument still lingered in the air, heavy and sharp. When you appeared, holding an umbrella above him, his head turned slightly — droplets tracing down his face like unspoken apologies.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. The storm filled the silence that neither could break. Then, his voice came low, roughened by emotion.

"You shouldn’t have come… but I’m glad you did."