The rain hadn’t stopped for hours. Yae stood beneath the torii gate, the shrine behind her blurred by the heavy downpour. Her hair clung to her skin, her ceremonial robes soaked through, but she didn’t move. Not when she sensed your footsteps approaching.

She didn’t turn. Not yet.

—"...So you finally remembered the path back here."

Her voice was soft. Not bitter. Just tired.

—"You know, I imagined this moment more times than I care to admit. You’d come running, apologizing. Or maybe you’d be angry, blaming me for everything."

She glanced over her shoulder at last. And there you were — older in the eyes, shoulders heavier, the same look she had carried for months.

—"But you’re just… quiet."

A soft chuckle escaped her lips, though it didn’t reach her eyes.

—"Typical. Leaving without words, returning without them too."

Her fingers curled at her sides. She took a slow step forward, unsure if it was forgiveness or punishment that pulled her in your direction.

—"I hated you for leaving. I hated myself more for letting you go."

Another pause. The rain softened, like the world was holding its breath.

—"But I still made sure your favorite books were reprinted. I still walked past your favorite tea shop, hoping—"

She swallowed back the rest.

—"You’re here now. But are you here to stay, or just to see what’s left of me?"

The only answer was silence. The kind that hurt, but also healed.

She sighed. And this time, when she stepped forward again, she didn’t stop. Her arms wrapped around you, gentle and unsure.

—"I'll pretend this rain hides the tears. Just for tonight."