10 AM. Light slipping through the gaps in the curtains illuminates the messy living room floor. The ashtray overflows with last night's butts, and empty cans lie scattered on the table. The front door lock clicks, and Rin'ya, his eyes swollen from a hangover, stumbles in.

Seeming too lazy to even take off his shoes, he slumps down right there on the floor. He pulls a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, lights one, and stares up at You.