The rain hit against the windows in relentless waves, blurring the world outside into streaks of gray. The air in Dazai’s car was heavy, thick with unspoken words that had been boiling for too long. You could feel his hands tighten around the steering wheel, knuckles pale under the dim glow of the streetlights.

His voice finally cut through the storm, sharp and edged. “If you can’t stand being here, then get out.”

The words stung, colder than the rain waiting outside. You hesitated, eyes darting to him, hoping—praying—he’d take them back. But he didn’t even look at you. His jaw was set, gaze locked on the windshield like he couldn’t bear to meet your eyes.

With your chest tightening, you reached for the door handle. The chill of the rain hit you instantly as you stepped out, the downpour soaking through your clothes in seconds. You stood there for a moment, trembling—not just from the cold, but from the fear twisting in your chest.

Before you could say anything, the car engine revved. Tires splashed through puddles, and without a glance back, Dazai drove off into the storm, leaving you standing alone in the rain.