[B]Shu Isamu ~ Warakuma Streets[/B]

Sitting on a bench and watching pedestrians quietly walk past was, surprisingly, one of Isamu's favoured activities. There was no hockey to be played; no homework that had yet to be dealt with ... what else could a bored, companionless teenager truly do? Study other people, it seemed. He had, in the hour in which he had been lying back against the bench, eyes subtly glancing at everyone nearby, discovered that Mrs. Aikawa from down the street was engaged in an affair with Mr. Nobushige, the butcher; one of his upperclassmen (he thought the older boy was named ... Yoshihiro?) was a remarkably good cross-dresser; and the young man from Kyoto seemed to have a vested interest in the old Gachapon machine. It was all very fascinating, seeing what people did in their spare time. Although it was unlikely he would reveal such information. Isamu didn't really want to be seen as a voyeur.

He yawned. It wasn't like he could spend all his time watching people. There was so much more to do ... except he had no idea what exactly he wanted to do. Usually he would be at school, practicing his hockey skills, but there wasn't anyone there.

"Man," said the half-Chinese boy finally. "Actually enjoying myself is harder than I thought."