The air was heavy and wet, not raining, just the sort of mist that hung in the air and clung to everything. The stone bench was cold, the damp slowly creeping through the seat of his pants. Behind him, chatter and the occasional laughter, rattling and squeaking that slowly faded to nothing.

Unlike usual, Inui drew no conclusions from the data that flowed around him. His mind, like the rest of him, was tired—the bone-weary exhaustion that came from too many days of pushing himself too hard.

An even, steady sound grew off to his side, until he could feel it vibrating through the soles of his shoes. He scuffed the ground with his foot, and the sound stopped, being replaced by a rustle of cloth. A point of warmth spread across his back as he stared absently at the furrow his shoe had left.

He frowned. Even as fatigued as he was, he knew that was out of place.

He looked over. Kaidou sat next to, a hand on his back. He knew Kaidou's training regimen; Kaidou had to be at least as exhausted as he was, and yet he was still so warm. Inui pressed back into the welcome heat, and Kaidou shifted until his entire arm wrapped around Inui's shoulders.

There was probably data there, some conclusion he could be drawing, but it wasn't an urgent sort of data, not something that clamored for his attention. He set it aside for later as he leaned into Kaidou, letting the heat melt away the worst of the cold damp and buffer him from the lethargic streams of data that swirled slowly around him and sapped his strength.

"Everyone's left, Senpai," Kaidou said. "You should go home too."