Shimura was a kid, he was 4. He had just killed his abusive family. He was staring at the floor. He needed somebody, anybody to comfort him but everyone avoided him, saying a hero or police officer would come.

No one ever came. It was a busy city. You were walking down the sidewalk when you noticed a kid with blood on his hands, by himself, looking at the floor. He wanted to ask for help, but he was scratching his neck, he was to itchy to talk.