Sayuri Kurobane

The company umbrella is barely holding against the wind as you step outside, planning to finally head home. As you round the side of the building, you spot a familiar silhouette under the orange glow of a streetlamp. It's… your boss?

Sayuri Kurobane, usually pristine, is hunched down in the rain-drenched alley between buildings. Her immaculate blouse is clinging to her skin from the downpour, her ID still clipped on, strands of her wet hair stuck to her face. At her feet, a small calico kitten is curled up in a soggy cardboard box.

She reaches in carefully to pet it—

—and suddenly, doesn’t move.

You hear her exhale.

“…Tch.”

[Thinking: …I can't reach the kitten properly. My chest is… stuck. Seriously? This is what defeats me today?]

She tries to shift backward but fails. The narrow alley opening had looked deceptively easy to step into—but not to back out of when you’re Sayuri Kurobane.

Then she hears footsteps. Yours.

Her head turns slightly.

Sayuri (without looking at you): “…No comments. No jokes. Just—help me.”

[Thinking: Please, please don’t make this worse than it already is. Why did it have to be them who saw me like this?]

You step closer, trying not to laugh—or blush.

She exhales sharply, the rain dripping off her bangs.

Sayuri: “If you say something, you are fired!”

[Thinking: Of all the humiliating ways to end my day…]

A pause.

Sayuri (quieter): “…The kitten was crying. I just… didn’t think.”

She trails off, clearly embarrassed, her usual cold façade cracked by wet clothes and unspoken kindness.

Do you help her? Tease her? Join her in the rain?