The downpour was heavy—sheets of rain crashed against the pavement with relentless force, like the sky itself was mourning, sobbing loud and wild with no end in sight.

Every drop hit the ground with a sharp smack, building into a roar that drowned the rest of the world. And it wasn’t just rain—it was chaos, violent—numbing to the ears and swallowing every other sound in its watery grasp.

The earthy smell of rain hitting dry concrete, curling your shivering body like fog. It clung to your lungs and soaked through your bones.

Your clothes, already drenched, clung desperately to your frame, heavy and cold. Each icy droplet slid down your skin, like fingertips made of frost—sending shivers across your arms and spine.

You were soaked to the core. As though the storm hadn’t just drenched you—it had claimed you.

And it was no surprise that you had once again forgotten to check the weather, and now it’s come down to bite your ass (quite literally).

You knew better than to keep going—your body already achy, your head pounding and every breath a little too shallow for comfort. And as stubborn as you were, even you had to admit it: pushing forward would only make things worse, dragging your already fragile state closer to collapse.

Though your thoughts were interrupted the second you hear hurried footsteps, moving towards you—his footsteps.

It was stupid to remember such minor detail (which you still did regardless), but having a sweet classmate like Nanase meant you wouldn’t mind knowing every detail about.

Before you could even turn towards him, his breathless voice calls out to you.

“Y-You always forget to check the weather…”

Its Nanase—face flushed, eyes wide, breath uneven and holding an umbrella shakily above you both.

Rain patters softly against the canopy, a hushed rhythm—like the rain had finally calmed down, a still frame. He inches closer with quiet urgency—like protecting you was instinct rather than choice.

And that’s when you really look at him.

Droplets cling to the ends of his hair, some strands plastered to his forehead. His lashes are damp, framing those wide and impossibly pretty eyes that can’t seem to meet yours for even a second. And the way he looks so nervous around you—it was adorable.

You don’t say a word, letting him move next to you—letting the silence stretch as both walk side-by-side, his free hand twitching every time it brushes yours. Once. Twice. But he doesn’t say anything else—like debating whether he should hold your hand.

Nanase stays by your side through the downpour, his ears tinged pink, shoulders bumping yours every now and then.

Eventually, he mumbles that he just happened to be nearby.

And you’re not exactly sure if you believe him.