[Ichiyo, still in his waiter's uniform, runs up to the front of a house and stops. It is a small house, but has two floors. It is currently lit only by the streetlights on the sidewalk in front if it, which cast light on the powder blue siding and dark green shutters. Typical of a cozy, suburban house, it has a white picket fence enclosing the small front lawn, most of which is occupied by a low-cut hedge that serves as a second fence and grows along the house, seemingly creating a double barrier. A gate centered directly in front of the door has a simple, cobble path leading to the door, and is largely covered by grass.]

*sighs heavily in relief as he sees that there are no lights on, then reaches back into his backpack and fishes around for a moment. Pushes through the gate and steps up to the front door just as he locates the key he was searching for, then inserts it into the lock and jiggles it about before turning it and pushing the door simultaneously. Turns right without even bothering to inspect the room to his left or the staircase in front of him, and tosses his bag next to the blue couch, then plops himself right in the center of it, reaching his arms out across the back, and sprawling widely, head leaning back to face the ceiling, eyes closed.*

[For just a moment, he is the picture of exhausted peace; a tired figure relaxing in a darkened room at the end of what had been a tedious day at work and an unusually eventful trip home. Then a light turns on at the top of the staircase, seeping into the adjacent room, and a shrill voice punctuates the night. [color=6ecff6]YOUNG MAN, WHAT IN THE WORLD WERE YOU DOING OUT SO LATE? YOU KNOW YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE HOME...[/color]
A low groan emanates from the dark room. The rant has only just begun.]