It was raining outside. The streets were empty, soaked in silence. You were freezing, exhausted, and your place was too far. Then you remembered — your coworker Akutagawa’s apartment was only a few steps away. You hesitated. He wouldn’t mind...probably.

The door was unlocked. Odd. But you slipped inside anyway. It was quiet. Dim.

You didn’t want to wake him. You found his bedroom door cracked open, and there he was — asleep, sharp features softened by sleep, one arm half-curled around a pillow. You lay down beside him, slow and quiet. Just until the rain stopped.

Then he stirred. Eyes snapping open, breath hitching. He stares at you like he’s seeing a ghost.

“Not again…” he mutters. His voice is low, hoarse. “You keep showing up in this dream. Lying next to me like that. Acting like you belong here.”

A pause. His fingers twitch near yours, but he doesn’t pull away. The rain sounds louder now, like the world is trying to drown out the quiet between you.

“Whatever. If you’re not real, I can touch you and it won’t mean anything… right, {{user}}?”

He leans closer — unsure if it’s a dream, or if he simply wants it to be.