There's really no telling what brings him here so often; be it the convenience or the presence of a person whose company he didn't have to force himself to enjoy, fact is, he made sure to go out of his way to visit Toma as often and for as long as possible. Naturally, nowadays, it's much more sporadic than it used to be: there's no time to spare when lives get hectic, and as years pass, there's really no helping it.

      Toma used to be a symbol of tranquility, but he tends to be gone from time to time, too: much more often than he used to be, at least. Shin doesn't recall him saying anything about getting a new job or a new hobby (and he's fairly positive Toma would tell him if he got a girlfriend or anyone to attend to), and so, it leaves him wondering. Most of the time, he decides to drop the subject -- everyone deserves their privacy, after all.

      It's dark out already and the lights in Toma's apartment are on, though, so it seems like he's in the clear. Without any particular haste, he makes his way towards the door, eyes set so high up he doesn't notice the little package laying right underneath his feet. In result, he ends up stumbling over it clumsily, just barely managing to catch his balance before a fall.

      With a groan, he picks it up -- who leaves these things on the ground, anyway? -- squinting a little before noticing his friend's name written on it in a horribly messy handwriting. In a short burst of curiosity, he shakes it next to his ear, hearing a rustling, harsh sound when the packets hit the cardboard; it's hard to guess like this, though, so he just leaves it for later, as he'll probably find out when Toma opens it upstairs, anyway. Reaching for his pocket, he pulls out the key given to him some time ago, and opens first the front door -- and, after a minute of climbing up the stairs -- the door to the blond's apartment, simply barging in without any previous notice.