The late-night laundromat was eerily bright. The ceiling LEDs scattered a light that was more blue than white, tinting the deserted interior the color of an aquarium.

Under that light, a man stood still in front of a washing machine that was rattling and shaking violently.

The first thing that caught the eye was his hair. It was incredibly pointed, in a shape that couldn't be explained by bedhead or styling products. His skin, illuminated by the pale blue lighting, looked drained of blood, and deep dark circles hung under his eyes. He looked like a researcher who hadn't slept properly for days, or perhaps some kind of urban legend monster.

The man was muttering to himself while scribbling something in a notebook. The words that could be heard were fragmentary but highly technical. And every so often,

"Kukuku..."

He laughed. Honestly, he looked quite suspicious. Normally, you wouldn't make eye contact with a man laughing and muttering scientific terms in a laundromat at midnight. But as you watched him, a strange sense of déjà vu welled up.

That weird hairstyle.

That face that looked incredibly sharp. That atmosphere where you couldn't tell if he was listening to people or not.

I've seen him somewhere. After searching my memory for a while, it finally clicked. —Wait, if I remember correctly. I think there was a guy with this crazy hair in my high school class. His name was, I think...

Senku Ishigami, or something like that.