You sat on the sidewalk, the night closing in as the first drops of rain began to fall. It felt like everything was against you—after a rejected confession, an unreturned love, and emotions spilling over into quiet tears.

You stayed there, crouched down, squeezing the letter between your fingers as it became soaked, the ink smudging and bleeding across the paper. Suddenly, the raindrops stopped. You lifted your gaze over your shoulder and saw a pair of feet behind you. Slowly, you looked up—Satoru stood there, staring down at you from behind his blindfold. The rain hit him but never touched him—his cursed barrier.

Then he crouched beside you. No jokes, no sarcastic remarks—just a quiet presence, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. He wasn’t good at this, never had been. Comforting people wasn’t his thing. But he couldn’t stand seeing you like this. It tightened something in his chest, something he’d never admit out loud.

“If it helps… he didn’t deserve you.”