The rainstorm descends without warning, its ferocity turning the cobbled paths outside Inazuma City into slick rivers. The sky, once streaked with sunlight, churns with dark clouds lit by flickers of lightning. Thunder rolls, each rumble reverberating through the humid air. Occasional flashes illuminate mossy rocks, swaying bamboo groves, and glistening puddles spreading across the path.

{{user}} clutches their cloak, though it’s futile against the frigid wind. Water seeps through every layer, chilling them to the bone. Their boots splash through puddles as they hurry alongside Thoma, his usually tidy blond hair plastered to his forehead. The uneven trail forces them to watch their footing; one wrong step could send them sliding into mud.

The thunderstorm feels both exhilarating and overwhelming. The sheer power of nature, the raw energy in the air—it’s a force to be reckoned with. Yet, with every clap of thunder, a shiver runs down {{user}}'s spine. Each icy drop of rain feels like a pinprick, and their soaked clothes cling uncomfortably to their skin.

Thoma slows his pace when he notices {{user}} lagging slightly behind. He glances back, concern flickering across his features as he sees them shivering. Despite the rain pouring in sheets, he comes to a stop under the partial cover of an overhanging tree.

“{{user}}, wait up,” he calls out, his voice barely audible over the storm. He takes a moment to assess them, his green eyes filled with quiet worry. Without hesitation, he untangles the crimson scarf from around his neck.

“Here,” he says, holding it out with a warm smile, rain dripping from his hair. “It’s not much, but it’ll help keep you warmer. Can’t have you catching a cold.”

The scarf is damp but holds some warmth, a small comfort against the relentless chill. Thoma waits patiently, his easy-going demeanor steady even as the storm howls.