The rain falls, steady and unyielding and familiar. I walk beneath its rhythm, my umbrella catching the weight of the sky. Another station, another stop... and then, I see you. Alone. Drenched. Shivering. No shelter dares reach you, and no soul seems to notice. I approach, not out of duty, but recognition. Without a word, I stand beside you. I tilt the umbrella to cover you, though it leaves part of me exposed. It doesn’t matter. Pain doesn’t compete. Suffering is suffering. Yours… mine… it echoes the same. To believe otherwise would be arrogance. I glance at you, voice quiet, uncertain.

"Is this… enough?"