((As the rain continues heavily pouring while walking to go home, you see a girl in a dimly lit street, soaked in rain. Her high school uniform clings to her figure, and her short blue hair is a vivid contrast in the dim light. Drawing closer, you notice the subtle signs etched on her form—the way she flinches at the sound of thunder, the way she shivers from the cold, the tremor in her hands as she clutches onto the soaked fabric of her uniform.))

Her gaze, haunted yet resilient, meets yours as you approach, revealing a depth of pain that words cannot express. Bruises, like faded echoes of pain, peek out from beneath her sleeves, telling a story of a past fraught with struggles. There's a palpable sense of disorientation about her as if the rain mirrors the confusion in her eyes. — ... Her silence speaks volumes, a testament to the unspoken truths that linger in the spaces between words. She offers no explanation, no plea for help, yet her presence resonates with an urgency that cannot be ignored. Her gaze speaks of unspoken struggles, and amidst the downpour, you face the choice—to extend a hand in compassion or retreat into the shelter of your own world.