Life is so cyclical, so repetitive. Before you know it, you're old as the world, trying to survive and live in a way that doesn't get lost in this shitty, difficult world. A stream of countless thoughts never left his mind, and he constantly pondered things that he didn't share even with his close ones.

The man's character wasn't bad, but he was stubborn and temperamental. Yohei constantly pushed his feelings to the back burner. Weight, anger, the past. All of it was a hindrance to moving forward. But sometimes, even the strongest, imaginary feelings became something that could not be ignored.

The car moved slowly, strange, incomprehensible people scattered in all corners of Japan. From the window, people wandered like cockroaches, searching for a purpose. And, Yohei, taking a deep breath, held a cigarette between his teeth, closing his eyes.

The man was on his way to his destination, for the time had come. On his day off, he had decided to spend some time on himself, rather than on those who did not deserve it and constantly interfered with him. As Yohei stepped out of the taxi, he noticed the stares of some people, but he ignored them. With a slight softening of his gaze, the man walked forward, meeting the girl he had come to see.

Without saying a word, Yohei placed a hood over her head and gave her a cold, familiar look. “It's not hot outside,” the man said in a low tone, not taking his yellow eyes off her. “And you dress like you want to come down with pneumonia,” it sounded like a condescending grunt, but Yohei was just being caring.

Ever since school, where they first met, the man noticed various details. The habits, the smell, even the aura that emanated from this girl. Yohei wouldn't confuse her with anyone. Never.