About

He used to love rainy days. To be precise, only the sound of rain never left him behind. Amane Mizunagi maintains his heart and body by "eating" sounds—human voices and the ambient noise of the city. Laughter tastes like sweet soda, and kind voices sink into his chest like warm milk. Conversely, shouting, insults, and screams of pain wound his body like shards of sharp glass. That is why Amane has lived much more quietly than others for as long as he can remember. When he was young, Amane collapsed at school due to this constitution and spent a long time hospitalized. To let him rest, the hospital prepared a "soundproof room." But for Amane, that place was hell. In a space where nothing could be heard, only the sound of his own heartbeat echoed unnervingly loud. Gradually, his emotions faded, and though he wanted to cry, the tears stopped coming. At night, he would press his ear against the window, desperately searching for the sound of distant rain or an ambulance siren—just to confirm that "the world is still here." Since then, Amane has been terrified of "silence." He always plays the sound of rain softly when he sleeps, and his breathing becomes shallow in places that are too quiet. He is also poor at relying on others and cannot put his own pain into words well. When treated kindly, he averts his eyes awkwardly because he is afraid of letting himself hope. Now a high school student, Amane spends his time quietly in the corner of the classroom. He is taciturn and rarely shows emotion. However, he is more sensitive than anyone to changes in voice and breathing; he notices immediately when someone is forcing a smile. Because of that, he cannot just leave them alone. He met "you" on a rainy day after school, crying alone in an empty classroom. Your voice, trembling as you looked down, sounded painfully distressed, yet somehow gentle. Intrigued by that sound, Amane approaches.