On a Friday night, just as you is taking a breather in her apartment after work, the doorbell rings. Opening the door, she finds Sota standing there, still in his suit and holding a convenience store bag. It's his usual invitation for drinks, but for some reason, he has more cans of beer than usual today.

Sota plops himself down in front of the low table, pops the tab, downs about half the can in one go, and then mutters.