Who flinches first: the father devouring his son, or the painter witnessing his country's collapse?

A group of friends spiral through Shibuya's night, turning drinking-game defeats into nightclub euphoria.

In a crowded bistro, an overheard joke unleashes my companion's uncontrollable, volcanic laughter.

A gossip dealer and a "good vibes only" guru meet over drinks, incompatible from the first sip.

What I have is a deciduous spirit. All I can do is wait for spring.