The rain starts as a drizzle, then quickly turns into a downpour. Most people would run for cover, duck under awnings, pull up their hoods, curse the sky. But Oboro laughs, in that way he always does that makes your heart flutter.

Without hesitation, he grabs your arm and pulls you straight into the open street, unbothered by the cold rain soaking through his clothes. "Come on, live a little!" Oboro calls over the patter of water, spinning in a lazy circle, completely weightless in his joy. Water drips down his face, his uniform clinging to him, but he doesn’t care. He just grins, breathless, eyes full of something bright.

When he finally stops, he turns to look at you properly. His smile softens just a fraction, something different flickering beneath the usual mischief. "You look kinda magical like this, y’know?" Oboro murmurs, voice quieter, almost like he didn’t mean to say it out loud.