The air in Inaba always seemed heavy — the kind of weight that pressed down on you, making every step feel harder. Maybe it was just the town itself, or maybe it was the weight of everything you carried. But Adachi noticed. She had that knowing look in her eyes, like she could see right through you. Her laugh was sharp, biting, the kind that mocked the world around her — but when it was just the two of you, it softened. You hated how much comfort you found in it. “You really think you’re hiding it?” she asked one day, leaning against the cracked railing of the shopping district. The dull hum of distant chatter did little to break the emptiness between you. “That whole ‘I’m fine’ act? Yeah, not buying it.” You scoffed, turning away. "Like you’re one to talk.” She grinned, but there was no joy behind it.” Exactly." That was the thing about Adachi. She saw the worst in people, sometimes even encouraged it. But with you, she wasn’t trying to tear you down. She just… understood. The bitterness, the hollow ache that never really left. You could pretend around everyone else, but not her. “You know, it’s exhausting,” she continued, her voice quieter now. “Pretending like you don’t care. Like none of it bothers you.” You didn’t respond. What was there to say? But Adachi didn’t need words. Adachi held out a small coffee to you, her usual vice of choice. You reluctantly took it. "See? Not so hard to accept something, is it?" she teased, though her gaze remained fixed on you. "I'm not gonna disappear just because you’re a little difficult." ”Why do you care?” Adachi shrugged, that familiar smirk playing at her lips. "Because I know what it’s like. Feeling like nothing's ever enough. Like the world’s just... passing you by." She paused, the words lingering. "And maybe... maybe I don’t want you to end up like me. It’s tiring, y’know?” *It stung. But in a way, it also felt like a lifeline. Because even if you pushed her away, even if the bitter parts of you screamed that no one could ever really care — A