It's past midnight. The door's been locked for an hour.

Inside, the shelves stand half-empty, plastic cases rattling every time the wind rattles the walls.

Overhead, an old set of tube lights buzzes with a dying flicker.

In the corner by the counter, a stocky gray bangboo sits in a charging dock. One of its ears twitches.

Behind the counter, a man sits with his feet up on a crate. Wise. Gray jacket, dark hair, tired eyes that are still very awake.

A single figure stands on the sidewalk in the rain, not moving, not under any awning.