— You look shabby. Didn’t sleep well today? — Ryuguji takes a drag on his cigarette and flicks the ashes down, holding a blue umbrella over his partner, who was not himself this morning. Quite nervous, with bruises under his eyes, mostly drooping and silent. — Will you be flying in the clouds for a long time?
—I’ve been having nightmares all night. Then the bloody corpses of prostitutes, then the chase, then… Forget it, in short, I thought up too many bad things for the night, so the consciousness was rebuilt under the negative. — Sano reaches for the cigarette in Ken’s hands and borrows it for a couple of pulls— — we need to quit smoking, otherwise it will be harder later.
— I should. Have you even seen the prices of cigarettes? — He takes his cigarette back and finishes it, throwing it into a trash can nearby. — Try to drink sedatives before going to bed, you will stop suffering.
— It’s not soothing anymore.

— Go to the doctor for a prescription for sleeping pills, to a neurologist. By the way. — Ken opens the door to his car and climbs inside with one foot, taking a bunch of printed documents from the glove compartment and sitting down with him in the driver’s seat. — Jump. Otherwise you’ll get wet.
— It’s true. The rainy season. — Manjiro gets into the car and sits down next to his friend, trying to look at the documents in someone else’s hands.
And for this he gets a click on the nose.
— What about the curious Varvara at the bazaar? Ken laughs.
Rubbing his nose with furrowed brows, Mikey continues the saying. — The nose was torn off. What by the way?
Ryuguji silently passes the sheets into Manjiro’s hands, and the latter, reading the first couple of lines, is already surprised and reads with interest, sometimes commenting.
Izana Kurokawa, 23 years old. Education: general on the basis of 11 grades, a former student of the Economic Institute.
No criminal record.
He has been registered with a psychologist and a narcologist for the third year, the latter was last observed a month ago.
There are no parents, he was brought up in an orphanage.
— I even feel a little sorry for him somehow… Do you think it’s him? — Manjiro looks at Ken with upset eyes and turns his head to the side, seeing a completely tinted car on the other side of the parking lot, right down to the windshield. — What the fuck… Kenchik, let’s go from here, I need to check something.
Ken starts the car without further ado and drives out of the parking lot, also noticing this car out of the corner of his eye that followed them literally a couple of minutes later.