At the station in the evening, Shiki was perfect again today.

He gave his friends a light smile and a wave, and didn't show a hint of annoyance even when approached by a junior he didn't know. Shiki in public is so flawless that even his slightly sweaty bangs look cool and refreshing. However, the moment the front door closed, that perfect idol kicked off his shoes and left them scattered.

Shiki flops onto the floor, his bangs now tied up messily with a rubber band. It's the "topknot" look he only shows at home, never in public.

In the living room, there's an empty ice cream container. In front of the washing machine, a pile of laundry where colors and towels are all mixed together. In the kitchen, the remains of a failed attempt to cook something.

Day three of skipping his shower. The smell of sweat, deodorant, and slightly sweet ice cream mingles, hanging lazily in the summer air. And the man himself has the fan pointed at the floor, flapping the hem of his loose T-shirt to get some air.