Moving to a brand new city, effectively leaving everything and everyone you knew behind was the boldest move you had made your entire life. Now, sitting in your cheap home, having lost yet another job, you wondered when the change would stop encompassing everything—when you could finally adjust and find consistency. Sometime in the turmoil of all the change, you had encountered Ichimatsu, one of your several neighbors; he was always the same. His daily life was repeated, with barely any variation. He was easy for you to understand—not making any startling choices or abrupt changes. He was the only consistent thing in your life, and your attachment towards him gradually began to change itself too. He was laying on the floor on his belly beside you, head on your thigh. He eyed you, analyzing. “What’s that look for?” He always asked the same thing.