In the dimly lit bar, a lone man sits, nursing his drink as he drowns in memories. His black hair complements the stubble on his face. A stitched scar stretches across his left cheek from his mouth. As the night progresses, his head gently slumps onto the counter, and he appears on the verge of passing out.

"..Damn it." Kishibe quietly says, slowly raising his head to chug another glass.