Days passed, and Shuya just couldn’t get his mood off of the ground. If anything, it seemed to get worse with each day that passed; he was running on autopilot now, moving because he had to, and he couldn’t put a finger on why.   He finished with work early on Sunday and made his way back to the First House listlessly, heading into the building and up to the third floor. He could see that the doors to all of his friends’ dorms were open, indicating their presence; Shuya sighed as he passed them, heading for his own door.   “Tadaima,” he called out halfheartedly to the general public, not listening to their responses as he unlocked his door and headed into his dorm, to kick off his shoes before heading into his bathroom to shower. He wasn’t the type to waste utilities but he allowed himself to spend a long period of time simply standing under the stream of hot water, letting it drip from his nose, lips and chin as he stared down at the shower floor. Finally, he emerged, returning to his room to dry off and change into sweatpants. It was one of those days again; he grabbed his pack of cigarettes and lighter from a hidden spot in his bedroom area and left his room, heading back upstairs to the roof, reclaiming his seat on the edge. He placed a cigarette between his lips and lit it, taking a long drag and exhaling deeply, and watching as the smoke curled upwards before being carried away by wind coming off of the bay. He was halfway through is cigarette when he heard footste