Kenji leaned over the railing between Yamaku's roof and the abyss below. At least three floors of drop distance above the ground, he watched Hisao take a tumble into oblivion. His own sense of balance was offset by the whiskey coursing through his veins. He could barely see normally; a haze of drunkenness did nothing to help his vision.
 
“Hey!” he yelled with a slur, shaking his fist angrily. “Getchur ash back up here! We gots more to drink!”
 
There was no response.
 
“Don'tchu ignore me you little... thing! I *will* come down there and fuck you up!” He snickered at the thought of him going down to fuck someone up.
 
Hisao still didn't answer.
 
“Fine! Have itchur way! Like the Burger King or whatever his fuckin' name is!”
 
He headed for the door and began to stumble down the stairs, foolishly starting with two at a time. After his first near-fall, he slowed his pace. I am *far* too drunk for this, he thought. Fifth of whiskey still in hand, he took a swig every few steps. He considered it some kind of reward.
 
The hallways of Yamaku High were dark at night. Some of the festival fireworks and nearby street lamps illuminated his path. His vision began to fail in intervals, causing the room to spin. He would always fall against the closest wall and wait there until he regained his balance. “Piesh uh shit new kid,” he muttered to himself, “convincing me to drink. Who doesh he think he is?”
 
He made his way outside, to the ground floor. Time to fuck this kid a new one, he thought. He clenched his fist and made his way to the body on the ground. If not for his drunken state, he might have realized that the body had not moved since he left or noticed the puddle of red around Hisao's head.
 
Kenji knelt beside Hisao's corpse. He pressed his face against the lifeless visage of his drinking buddy. With Hisao's collar clenched firmly in his grip, he shook the body violently. “Hey! I told you that I would come down here and fuck. you. UP! Now get on your feet like a man!”
 
Silence.
 
Kenji scoffed at Hisao and rose back to his feet. He took one more swig of whiskey. Somewhere, deep down, he knew the truth. “Fine,” he whispered, turning his gaze to the sky. “Have it your way, man.”
 
The stars were beautiful. He hoped there was peace beyond them.