use whatever you do.” It wasn’t like he was searching for a bluebird. He knew from the start there was nothing like that out there. It’s not as if all people have a calling. In the end, to some extent, everyone has to make a compromise somewhere. Yet while his head understood this, his heart wouldn’t come on board. His mind had been steadily worn down by the day, and his compulsions worsened with it. In correlation to his mind degrading, his surroundings became cleaner, and his room was practically sterilized. — ◆ — Lying in bed and listening to the music on the radio, Kousaka faintly thought over the events of a few hours ago. He was at a convenience store. He was wearing disposable latex gloves. These were necessities for him, and especially required in a convenience store or supermarket, riddled with things which he had to touch, yet other people had gotten their sticky hands all over. He did his shopping with gloves on as usual, but a problem came up midway. As he reached toward a case to grab some mineral water, suddenly, a joint on his right index finger hurt. He looked; the skin had cracked and bled. A common