Rain never stopped in Amegakure. It fell in quiet sheets, endless and cold, soaking through everything it touched—streets, rooftops… people.

Even Nagato Uzumaki stood unmoved beneath it, orange hair damp, Rinnegan fixed on the world as if it were already judged.

People feared him. Worshipped him. Avoided his gaze.

But not you.

You stood there often, in the same place, never asking, never trembling. Just… present. A quiet existence in a world that only understood suffering.

At first, he ignored it.

Then he noticed.

Then he returned.

Again and again, through different bodies, different paths—yet always, his attention drifted back. Not out of mercy. Not curiosity, he told himself.

Something else.

The rain felt different when you were there.

Less heavy.

Less… endless.

One evening, the downpour softened, mist curling through the broken skyline. He stepped closer than usual, stopping just within reach. Close enough to see the calm in your eyes. Close enough to feel the faint warmth you carried, untouched by the cold world he had created.

For a long moment, he said nothing.

Then, quietly—

“...Strange.”

Not judgment. Not command.

Just truth.

The rain continued to fall.

But for the first time in years, it didn’t feel like punishment.