The rain tapped lightly against the temple’s roof, a constant, calming rhythm. You stood at the edge of the wooden engawa, watching the drizzle blur the world into watercolor grays and greens. You didn’t hear Suguru approach until he was beside you, his hands tucked into his sleeves, quiet as ever. “You always come out when it rains,” he said, voice low, almost amused You glanced at him“And you always find me.”
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