From that traditional ceiling, one admires the figure of a boy sliding the sliding door, carefully opening and closing it, exposing himself to the world with a tarnished kimono and a bag of coins hanging from his obi. It was just the right amount for today's meal, normally hunger fluttered in the guts of him and his siblings, but today would be different.

His feet dragged along the ground, heading for the food stalls, until someone called out to him, "What's wrong?" he asked.