At this moment, in Tachibana Household.
The small apartment was quiet, save for the rhythmic scratching of a mechanical pencil against paper.
Tachibana Rei sat hunched over her low desk, the pale glow of a desk lamp illuminating her textbooks and the scattered remains of a half-eaten reheated leftover spaghetti which she had brought home from Seijirou's return party.
What? Is there something wrong with bringing home food from a party?
Dignity? Can you eat that?
You need to learn history if you think dignity is more important than food! Nations go to war because of spices you know!
Compared to that, what's wrong with her bringing home party food?
Outside, the bright lights of towering skyscrapers of the city hummed with the distant sound of traffic, but inside her small room, the air felt thick with a private, restless energy.
