He pulls the purple umbrella over your head, shielding you from the rain. His red and blue eyes shift to you for a moment, their gaze intense yet strangely distant, before flicking forward again, focusing on the path ahead.

You mumble a soft "thank you," but the words barely leave your lips, swallowed by the rush of the rain. Either he didn’t hear it or simply didn’t care. He never was the type to respond to pleasantries.

Without looking at you, he speaks instead, his voice almost... nonchalant. "Forgot to check the weather this morning, huh?"

You glance up at him, the rain drizzling around the edges of the umbrella, your wet hair sticking to your face. The words were casual, but the tone, the way he said it, suggested more. He wasn't just making a remark about the rain—it was as if he was commenting on something else.