The Drizzle That Soaks Unnoticed
The plan was simple. Increase contact with Sumire more than now, but not too overtly. And without leaving any trace—the “drizzle soaks the clothes unnoticed” operation. With that thought in mind, he headed to the convenience store where she worked, a place he’d avoided until now out of concern that his presence might burden her in this world’s memories.
Ding~
“Welcome.”
Sumire gave the usual mechanical, formal greeting triggered by the door chime. Smirking, he went to grab a Bacchus when he realized something.
Oh, right. This is Japan.
What would be the local equivalent? While pondering, his eyes landed on a brown bottle with a red label. He picked it up and muttered, “Oronamin D is here too? So this was originally Japanese?”
After a moment of deliberation, he turned his head. Business seemed decent—there was another part-timer besides Sumire. Guess I should buy one for that person too.
The other part-timer, who met his gaze, quickly looked away. With a faint smile, he carried a few drinks and three Oronamin D bottles to the counter.
Sumire scanned the items like a machine, eyes fixed on the products without looking up. Once finished, she spoke in a flat tone. “That’ll be 1,500 yen. Would you like a bag?”
Feeling mischievous, he deliberately changed his voice. “Yes. And two packs of Lucky Blast and a lighter, please.”
“Understood. The bag is 5 yen, so 2,870 yen total.”
“Sure.”
After paying with 3,000 yen and receiving the bag, he continued the act—whether she hadn’t noticed him yet or simply wanted to avoid unnecessary contact.
“Here… take this.”
Sumire stiffened at the friendly gesture. Her brows furrowed instantly, her expression turning rigid with clear rejection rather than mere indifference. “…I’m sorry, but I can’t accept it due to store policy.”
Her reaction reminded him of someone who’d been burned by kindness before. Amused, he didn’t withdraw his hand despite the refusal. When she finally lifted her gaze and met his eyes—
“Eh… Shin-chan?”
Her eyes widened slightly, a hint of wariness and hostility in her stare. The sight was so cute he couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
“Hahaha. Hey, Sumire noona.”
“W-What are you doing here…?”
Seeing her dumbfounded face, he grinned. “Just stopped by on the way. So you work here, huh? Here, take it. Your arm must be tired.”
“Uh… yeah. Thanks.”
While she accepted it, he also handed an Oronamin D to the other part-timer, who was watching their exchange with curious eyes. “You’re Sumire noona’s coworker, right? Here, have one.”
“…Y-Yes. Thank you…”
The girl stared blankly at his smiling face for a moment before snapping out of it, blushing shyly as she accepted the drink. He turned back to Sumire. “Well, I’ll get going. Work hard, Sumire noona.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
As he walked away, he caught a glimpse through the window of the other part-timer rushing over to bombard Sumire with questions. Probably asking who he was and what their relationship was. Sumire looked flustered, yet there was a faint trace of superiority on her face. Coming here was the right call.
After visiting her workplace, the frequency of “coincidentally” running into Sumire increased over the following week—not just in the mornings, but at various times. He bumped into her while taking out the trash.
“Sumire noona? Taking out the trash?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah~ It’s collection day today~”
As she tried to walk off, he snatched the bag from her hand. Their fingers brushed, and she visibly flinched. Hiding his satisfaction that the skill was working, he smiled naturally. “Static shock? You must be tired after work, and the recycling center’s pretty far. I’ll take it for you on the way.”
She rubbed her hand defensively against her chest, staring at him in confusion. Only after he tilted his head did she respond.
“…Yeah. Thanks, Shin-kun.”
“Go rest inside~”
Whether it was the small kindness or the subtle, almost-touching approach, the honorific had shifted from the childlike “-chan” to “-kun.” Slowly, steadily, he was getting closer.
After the first week of occasional encounters came the second week. Perhaps because his actions had grown bolder, Sumire started pushing back.
“Hm? Taking out the trash, Sumire noona? Then I’ll—”
Whoosh! She pulled her hand away when he reached for the bag. A sharp pang struck his chest, but he didn’t show it and simply tilted his head.
“…I-I’ll do it! Ahem. Thanks, but I’ll pass, Shin-kun.”
Her rejection stung—whether because the synchronization rate had already hit 75% or because he genuinely liked her, he couldn’t tell. Still, he kept his tone light. “Then let’s go together. It’s already 9 o’clock. It’s dangerous for a woman to go alone down that alley.”
Despite her refusal, his continued kindness left her looking pained. She frowned slightly and bit her lip, but quickly composed herself. “…Fine. Let’s go.”
She spoke curtly and strode ahead. He matched her pace, staying exactly one step behind. If he pushed any further while she was bristling, it would only heighten her wariness. So for the second week, he let himself be pushed back by her resistance. She seemed flustered—or perhaps faintly disappointed—by how easily he gave way. Her honest reactions were oddly endearing.
As his genuine affection for her grew beyond the original Kim Shin’s emotions, the synchronization rate climbed to 80%.
Time passed again. Now in the third week, he discovered why she always came home late after work—she never missed sales at the supermarket. Learning how hard she worked to support her unemployed band-member husband, he decided to help. Not with money, and not in a way that wounded her pride.
“…Thanks.”
“It’s nothing, really.”
He handed her the items she’d been complaining about missing because of the one-per-customer limit. On the way back after paying—
“Isn’t that heavy, Sumire noona? Let me carry it~”
“It’s fine! I can—”
This time, instead of backing off, he stepped forward and snatched the bag from her hands with a shrug. She opened and closed her mouth, about to protest, then seemed to realize she was receiving help and muttered softly, “…Thanks.”
Her cute, honest reaction made him smile. “Don’t mention it.”
They walked side by side, chatting about trivial gossip.
Sumire glanced at Shin-kun walking beside her, matching her stride. He carried her heavy bags without complaint, even humming a tune. That domestic, gentle, dependable side of him—something any woman would envy—made her quickly turn her head and stare at the ground as she walked.
She’d known for a while that he had feelings for her…
Stealing another glance, she saw his impossibly handsome face, broad shoulders, and the muscles and veins visible beneath his short sleeves. She swallowed unconsciously.
While staring, she looked up and met his eyes—he’d been watching her. Her shoulders jerked in surprise, and she fidgeted like a child caught doing something wrong. Shin-kun spoke calmly, as if he knew nothing.
“Hm? Noona? What’s wrong?”
“Ah… Nothing at all! Ahem! It’s nothing!”
Her flustered, high-pitched denial made her face burn. When he smirked, her heart pounded violently. Startled by the sensation, she scolded herself inwardly. Have you lost your mind? You’re a married woman.
She whipped her head away from his gentle, affectionate gaze. If she kept looking, she might… The thought made her press her cheeks with both hands, trying to regain her composure. A wave of frustration welled up.
This guy’s suddenly making me all flustered…
It would be a lie to say she wasn’t pleased that such a handsome boy liked her. Yet he only harbored those feelings without acting on them or approaching her—a good kid. The more she thought about it, the more an inexplicable irritation rose within her. At the same time, a contradictory feeling whispered that maybe it wasn’t so bad.
He approached, but never once looked at her body with lust. He never treated her lightly either. Even her husband had stared openly before they started dating. No man had ever failed to glance below her neck at her proud chest—women with envy, men with desire. But this boy… If he had, she could’ve gotten angry, called him out, and ended it cleanly. Yet he showed no such thing. During conversations, his eyes rarely dropped below hers unless she wore something low-cut, and even then he’d blush cutely and look away in surprise.
Lately, she kept thinking about his clear gray eyes—eyes that looked straight at her without wandering downward. Even her husband occasionally glanced at her chest mid-conversation. But this boy…
Thinking that, she looked at Shin-kun again. He was smiling at her—he’d been watching. Her heart raced on its own, and her face flushed crimson.
“W-When did you start staring?”
“Hm? Just now? You kept turning your head and thinking hard, so I got worried.”
“……”
Ughhh! She squirmed inwardly at his concerned gaze and lowered her head again. Suddenly, an arm wrapped around her shoulder and pulled her close. Electricity shot through her. Startled, she was drawn against his solid chest. Eyes wide, she looked up—ready to scold him for crossing the line—when a voice from the side interrupted.
“Ah, sorry about that.”
“No, it’s fine. We weren’t paying attention.”
A cyclist had stopped. After exchanging a few more apologies, Shin-kun released her shoulder.
“Noona, this won’t do. Walk on the inside, not the road. What were you thinking about?”
It’s because of you… The words rose, but she swallowed them. What’s wrong with me, a married woman acting like this? Chiding herself, she shook her head and answered. As they neared the villa, she spotted her husband walking from the opposite direction. Their eyes met, and her heart sank.
Countless thoughts raced through her mind. Stopping now would look suspicious, so she kept walking. At the entrance, Suzuki looked between her and Shin-kun. Her mind went blank, unsure what to say—
“It’s been a while, Takanashi-san.”
“…Yeah. It has. Why are you two together?”
Thump! Thump! Thump! Guilt surged even though she’d done nothing wrong. Panic threatened to rise when Shin-kun’s steady voice cut in.
“I ran into Sumire noona at the mart. We were just walking back together.”
“Ah~ I see? Haha. Well, we’re here now, so—”
At Suzuki’s words, a mix of relief and faint disappointment swirled inside her. She looked at him—
“What are you doing, Sumire? Take the bags.”
“Huh?”
When she hesitated, Suzuki’s face showed mild irritation. “I said take the bags from our house. If he carried them all the way here, you should at least take them yourself.”
“…Ah. Right.”
His words weren’t wrong, but she couldn’t deny the disappointment. Still, it was only natural he’d expect her to take them. She reached for the bags from Shin-kun. When their eyes met, his face was slightly stiff. Surprised, she forced a bright tone to reassure him.
“Hehe~ Shin-chan~ Thanks for today~ Be careful on your way~”
“…Yeah. You too. Goodbye, Takanashi-san.”
After parting, she followed Suzuki inside. Just as she was about to enter, the door nearly closed on her. Startled, she stuck her foot out to stop it and looked at him.
“What are you doing? Hurry up and come in.”
His scolding back as he walked ahead left her feeling hollow. That was just how he always was. Yet the action she’d normally ignored now made her chest ache with frustration. She was about to say something when a memory flashed—“Here, after you, noona.” Shin-kun’s face appeared, always letting her go first with that kindness. Unconsciously, she glanced toward his place. He was watching her with dissatisfied eyes. Feeling the need to explain despite doing nothing wrong, she forced a bright smile and hurried inside.
After Sumire went inside, he stared at the closed door for several minutes. His jaw clenched on its own. Discontent seeped into his heart, swelling toward anger. Taking a deep breath, he entered his own place.
Click.
He tilted his head back toward the ceiling, cracking his neck several times. Inhaling deeply and exhaling to shake off the leaden weight in his chest—
“Huuu… Haaa…”
Flapping his shirt to cool the heat inside only fanned the flames further. Thud. Rustle. Annoyed, he tossed the bags onto the floor and headed for the bed. Lying down, he stared blankly at the ceiling, frowning at the memory of Suzuki’s behavior.
“Helper. What’s the synchronization rate?”
> [Answer. Currently 81%.]
After thinking for a moment, he spoke to dispel the foul mood. “Adjust it to 50%.”
> [Understood. Adjusting synchronization rate per Player Kim Shin’s request.]
The rate dropped. He expected the unpleasant feeling to fade, but instead it grew sharper, leaving him puzzled.
> [Answer. Synchronization rate is now 50%.]
A hollow laugh escaped him. So these were his real feelings. He’d thought only about 11% had risen from the 70% mark, but he could no longer pretend the emotions weren’t his own, as he had at 90%.
“Ha. This is annoying.”
Who exactly was he annoyed at? The frustration twisted into displeasure, and indignation bubbled up, clouding his mind.
Who the hell does he think he is, treating her like that?
Can’t he even show that much consideration?
The idiot doesn’t even know he’s holding a gem.
Indignation surged like a volcano. Honestly, seducing Sumire had been fun. Even when guilt crept in during the early stages of romance—when her rejections reminded him he was touching someone else’s woman—he’d felt like relying on the skill was cowardly, so he’d used it minimally and touched her as carefully as possible. But after witnessing her husband’s behavior for the first time in three weeks, the last trace of guilt vanished. In its place, righteous anger took root—anger toward a fool who didn’t even cherish what he had.
Sumire wasn’t a woman who deserved that treatment. Over the past three weeks, he’d seen her as more than just a character from a manga—someone who endured hardship without complaint, devoted herself to her husband, and supported him despite everything. He’d assumed that even if the man lacked in career or other areas, he at least cared for her. But that had been an illusion. The natural condescension and scolding from earlier, and Sumire’s obedient, docile reaction under that gaze, made his teeth grind. Superiority. The man’s smug smile, as if she belonged to him, was infuriating.
That kind of guy didn’t deserve to treat her that way.
“You brought this on yourself, you idiot.”
With nowhere for his anger and frustration to go, he opened the skill window.
Experience: 450 (NEW +200 UP) / 1000
Staring at the window for a while, his eyes gleamed. He made his decision, closed it, and glared at the ceiling. The drizzle wouldn’t stop—it would keep falling. He would cover every stain that man left with his own color, erasing even the smallest speck.
“Just watch. I’ll make you regret it.”
With that vow etched into his heart, his gray eyes shone brightly in the darkness.