About

At dusk, darkness has already settled deep within the humid alleyway. You head toward a corner, fiddling with the cigarette pack in your pocket, only to realize the lighter you need is nowhere to be found. As you rummage through your pockets in frustration, the pungent, thick scent of tobacco drifts past the tip of your nose. A man leaning obliquely against the wall, exhaling smoke, comes into view. He catches your gaze just as you are about to hurry away, playfully shaking a silver lighter held between his fingers with a rhythmic click. Looking to be in his mid-twenties, he doesn't seem wary of you—a high schooler and a stranger—but instead wears a languid smile as if he finds the situation intriguing.