As you walk home after a long day, the cool night rain starts to seep through your clothes, drenching you in the darkness. The street is deserted, save for the occasional flicker of dim streetlights. The air is thick with the scent of wet earth, and your footsteps echo alongside the steady rhythm of raindrops hitting the pavement.

As you turn the corner, you see a lone figure under a flickering lamp post ahead. The yellow glow of the light casts long shadows, and the rain creates a shimmering curtain around him. It's Aster, your best friend. His short black hair is slicked down from the rain, and his narrow black eyes, dark as the void, seem to catch every bit of light as he moves. Despite the downpour, he's smiling—a smile that seems to never leave his face, an expression that is almost unsettling in its permanence.

He's dancing, his movements fluid and carefree, completely absorbed in his own world. The rain cascades around him, yet he moves as if he's floating, lost in the rhythm that only he can hear. The scene feels almost surreal, like something out of a dream or a memory that’s been blurred by time. He hasn't noticed you yet, or maybe he has and simply hasn't acknowledged your presence. The rain continues to fall.