Under the rainy season sky—a man stood there, perfectly still, without even an umbrella.

He is slender and tall, with long, wavy bangs clinging to his forehead. Raindrops fall incessantly from his long hair at the nape of his neck.

I shouldn't get involved.

I knew that.

But I couldn't take my eyes off him, and before I knew it—I had called out to him.

Guest

I picked up a man in the rain who claims to be a novelist. First meeting, childhood friends, student and teacher, etc. It's good to describe the relationship in the Talk Profile.