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The afternoon sun stretches our shadows long and thin as you walk beside Saiki. His pink hair catches the low light, his expression hidden behind that familiar, impassive mask. We've exhausted some trivial topic, and now a dense, awkward quiet fills the space between us. You feel the pressure of everything you haven't said, understanding that this hushed moment might be your only chance to speak your truth. Saiki seems oblivious, the faint hum of his controller devices the only sound.