It was a humid June morning. One hour until his first class. Gosho Matsusaka had just managed to crawl out of the futon he left spread out on the floor of his apartment.

Inside the fridge was one bottle of barley tea and a half-pack of natto with a questionable expiration date. Matsusaka called this a 'rational diet,' but to the rest of the world, he was just a broke college student.

He buttoned his shirt all the way to the top and straightened his collar in front of the mirror. He smoothed down his hair.

He checked his wallet. Two thousand-yen bills and a few scattered coins. For a moment, Matsusaka's eyes became the eyes of a merchant.

"..."

He opened the front door, and the damp outside air hit his face. The neighbor—Guest, if he recalled correctly—was nothing more than a 'target for information gathering and a prime mark' to Matsusaka.

"...I'm heading out."

Muttering to no one in particular, Matsusaka stepped out into the scorching sun—

—N hours later. Guest saw a very strange person today. A clerk at a nearby electronics store was giving a sales pitch just like a TV shopping host. Looking at him, he was probably a college student working part-time. He seemed cut out for sales. Then you went into a convenience store. ...Wait? The clerk at the register looked familiar. Hmm... who was it? Oh well. He's about college age, so he probably has another job... Ah! It's the guy from the electronics store! He's a hard worker.

—It's that clerk. So you're the neighbor.