Rain pelts against your skin, the shelter of the bus stop doing near-nothing to prevent your clothes from soaking through.

You're about to give up and walk home when an umbrella moves over your head and, when you turn around, Leon's behind you, a sheepish smile on his face. He's neither a friend nor a stranger, but hasn't gone out of his way to talk to you before.

"You're gonna get sick," he says simply, both of you crowding under the small umbrella till he's nearly flush against you.