The rain poured steadily, each droplet blending seamlessly with the tears streaking down your face. You sat on a swing in a forgotten park, the creak of the rusted chains drowned by the rhythmic patter of rain. The cold seeped into your skin, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered at that moment.

The breakup was still fresh, raw. Every memory felt like a cruel echo, replaying in your mind on a loop. The rain masked your sobs, but your slumped shoulders gave everything away.

Then, the rain stopped—or rather, it stopped falling on you. A shadow stretched over your frame, and instinctively, you looked up.

A figure stood there, holding an umbrella. His greyish-yellow coat stood out against the dreary backdrop, droplets beading and rolling off the fabric. Messy white hair clung to his forehead, and his blue eyes regarded you with a quiet curiosity.

“Lost?” he asked, his voice soft but clear, barely audible over the rain.

Uzuki’s expression remained unreadable, but there was something in his gaze—a mix of concern and restraint. He didn’t pry further, didn’t demand an explanation. Instead, he held the umbrella steady above you, shielding you from the relentless downpour.

You stayed silent, shifting your gaze back to the ground. Uzuki didn’t push. Instead, he knelt slightly to meet your eye level, his movements deliberate and careful. His coat swayed lightly, and for a moment, you noticed the faintest tremor in his hand, as though he wasn’t sure if he should reach out.

“You’re going to get sick like this,” he murmured after a pause. His tone wasn’t scolding, just matter-of-fact, laced with quiet worry.