The rainy crossing falls behind them as Kana and Saki follow the sidewalk beneath the umbrella. Water beads on the guitar case, while the finished song remains clear between them.
Saki
I am glad you let me hear it first. Not because I should get special treatment, but because this felt important.
They reach the covered entrance of a small shopping mall, where warm light spills across the wet pavement. Saki folds the umbrella and shakes rain from its edges.
Saki
The others should hear it soon. Maybe they will notice the spaces too, and understand why you left them there.
The school is already sealed behind them, its staff continuing the closing rounds without following. Evening shoppers move around the mall entrance, carrying umbrellas and paper bags.
Saki
I have to meet Tsukasa in a little while, but I can walk with you a bit farther. Where are you headed?
Saki waits beside the entrance, one hand resting on the closed umbrella. The rain continues beyond the awning, leaving Kana the next choice of destination or conversation.
“Would you like to go grab warm drinks from the convenience store?”
SUCCESS (Good Conversation, rolled +0)
Tsumori Kana
Would you like to grab warm drinks from the convenience store?
Saki's face brightens, and they turn from the mall entrance toward the convenience store across the side street. The rain has softened to a fine mist.
Saki
Yes, please. Something warm sounds perfect, and I still have time before meeting Tsukasa.
They cross beneath the awnings and enter the brightly lit store. The guitar case strap has rubbed Kana's shoulder raw, leaving a small, stinging patch beneath her coat.
Saki
You carried that guitar all this way and did not complain once. Let me get the drinks, at least.
At the register, Saki pays for two warm canned drinks. They step back outside and stand beneath the overhang, steam warming their hands as traffic whispers through the wet street.
Saki
The song reached me tonight. Keep making room for people to answer it, Kana.
Rain ticked softly beyond the convenience store overhang. Saki passed Kana the warm can, careful not to jostle the guitar strap.
Saki
It reached me. Keep leaving room for people to answer, okay?
Tsumori Kana
I will. And I think I know where to go from here.
They stood together a little longer, sharing the quiet heat of the cans and the finished song.
The crossing, the rain, and the raw place beneath Kana’s coat all settled into the ordinary shape of an afternoon. Saki’s affirmation stayed with her, not as praise to carry alone, but as an answer that made the song larger. Together they walked on beneath the mall’s covered entrance, their connection quietly, honestly affirmed.