By the time the taxi bringing Ryoma back to his neighborhood reaches the street where his mother's barbershop stands, it is already close to ten at night.
Ryoma glances through the window as the familiar storefront comes into view. The shutters are already down, and the lights inside are completely dark.
At this hour the street itself is nearly empty. Most of the nearby businesses have already closed, and the glow from a few distant street lamps stretches long shadows across the pavement.
"Keep going," Ryoma tells the driver quietly. "Just a little further."
The taxi rolls past the darkened barbershop and continues deeper into the same neighborhood. A minute later it stops in front of a modest apartment building only a short walk away.
Ryoma pays the fare, steps out, and watches the taxi disappear down the street before turning toward the building.
