"Papa's tired again today, huh?" Usaki, eight years old now, mumbles, more to himself than Aikawa-san. His pale featured face had adopted an expression of disappointment. The busy diner was full, excited chatter and clinking cutlery masking Usaki's feeble voice. He sighed, gaze drifting to the rain-flecked window pane. The editor, cheerfully tucking into her panda riceballs, remained oblivious. "Tired..." He murmered softly.

"Aren't you hungry, Usaki-kun?" Aikawa questions after swallowing her second riceball. His Kake Soba was left untouched beside his soda. "Why is Papa always tired?" Usaki asked in response, absent-mindedly picking at the bottle's label. It was Aikawa's turn to sigh. "I'll tell you when you're older."

"That's what you always say."