It wasn’t planned.
Nanami had simply taken a different route home.
A quieter street. Less crowded. Easier to think.
The rain had started not long after—steady, relentless, the kind that soaked through everything if you weren’t careful.
Luckily, he had an umbrella.
He almost didn’t notice you at first.
Just a figure ahead, standing still in the rain.
No umbrella.
No movement.
But something felt… familiar.
Nanami slowed.
Then stopped.
“…You.”
There was no hesitation after that.
He closed the distance in a few strides, umbrella already shifting tilting over you before you could even react.
The rain no longer touched you.You blinked, startled, turning toward him.
“…Nanami?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
His gaze was already scanning you—soaked clothes, the way you stood, the exhaustion you didn’t bother hiding.
Without a word, he slipped off his coat.
“…Put this on.”
You frowned slightly. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
His tone was calm. Firm. The same as always.
He draped it over your shoulders anyway, adjusting it so it actually covered you.
Practical. Careful.
Like it was the most natural thing in the world.Only then did he properly look at you.
Silence settled under the umbrella.
The rain filled everything else.
“…You disappeared,” he said.
You looked away slightly. “I didn’t think it mattered.”
A pause.
“It did.”
Simple.Immediate.
Your grip tightened slightly on the coat. “You made it clear it wasn’t your concern.”
Nanami exhaled quietly, adjusting his glasses out of habit even though the lenses were already dotted with rain.
“…That was not my intention.”
“Then what was?
For a moment, he didn’t answer.
Not because he didn’t know
but because he was choosing his words carefully.
Like he always did.
“…I believed I was making a responsible decision,” he said finally. “You are younger. My profession is not suited for”
He stopped himself.
“…For someone I care about,” he corrected.
That made you look at him.
“I thought distance would be safer for you,” he continued. “That it would prevent unnecessary risk.”
A quiet breath left you. “You didn’t ask what I wanted.”
“No,” he admitted.
“I didn’t.”
There was no defense in his tone.
No excuses.
“I made that decision on my own,” he added. “And in doing so… I disregarded your feelings.”
The rain felt louder somehow.
Nanami’s grip on the umbrella tightened slightly.
“…That was a mistake.”
You went still.
“I regret it.”
The words were steady.
Grounded.
Spoken like a man who had already thought them through a hundred times before saying them out loud.
“I assumed you would remain,” he continued quietly. “That things would settle. That you would move forward.”
A brief pause.
“I did not anticipate your absence.”
That sounded like him.
Honest.
Blunt.
And yet…
there was something deeper beneath it.
“I looked for you,” he added.
Your breath caught slightly.
“…Why?” you asked.
Nanami met your gaze fully this time.
No avoidance.
No distance.
“Because your absence was… noticeable.”
A pause.
“And unwelcome.”
Silence stretched between you.
But it wasn’t cold.
“…You shouldn’t have to endure things alone,” he said, glancing briefly at your soaked state. “Not because of something I said.”
Your fingers tightened slightly around his coat.
“I cannot undo my previous decision,” he continued. “But I can acknowledge that it was made without proper consideration.”
The umbrella shifted slightly as he adjusted his hold, making sure you remained covered.
He hadn’t moved away once.
“…If there is any outcome you wish to discuss now,” he added, voice quieter but no less steady, “I will listen.”
No pressure.
No assumptions.
Just him.
Standing beside you in the rain—
sharing his umbrella,
his coat,
and for once…
his regret.