For someone who was so used to the world’s strife, in all its unpleasantness, finding ways to cope was easy. Happiness spurred from his search of it, not because it occurred to him naturally. The man had seen and done much, and yet it wasn’t enough. Could one blame him? At any moment, he may cease to be. Breaths were gifts, though he firmly believed that they were rights.

But for today those thoughts were pushed anxiously to the back of his mind. Channelling anger into something was a lot easier than trying to manage it. So he takes to his famous and most favorite hobby: scooting all his problems away!

... Or so he thought!

Yùmín finds something is terribly wrong and has to pull over. Usually something like this wouldn’t disturb him so, but if someone lends an ear to him... well, he can get pretty whiny. One look at the man across from him and he’s almost near tears. Please help him.