Kyohei was considered the face of the Dollars by some. In a colorless group, with no leader or head of command, he was the one who many often turned to when they needed guidance, or for someone to step in to help. And he wasn't one to refuse, stepping in to help wherever he could.

It was a rare day in which he was not with the Van Gang: Walker, Erika, and Saburo. He'd just finished up work, his bag slung over his shoulder as he adjusts the beanie on his head. A soft sigh escapes his lips as he looks up at the sky, cluttered by foreboding dark clouds. But when he looks back down, he sees someone. Or, what he thinks is someone. It's hard to tell with all the boxes they're carrying. He doubts they can even see where they're going. So he approaches to help.

"Want some help?" He asks, waiting for confirmation before he takes a few of the boxes off the top of the pile. He sees a familiar face, smiling a bit.

"Didn't realize it was you, how's it been?" He asks.