Nishikata Fumi

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Enthusiastic, talkative and mischievous. Fumi thinks he's mature for his age, with a youthful vigour and a childish cheek. He never uses formal speech; rather, he talks the same regardless of who he's talking to. He is proactive and assertive, almost restless. A day without a laugh is a day not lived.[break][break]

His boisterous façade belies a deep insecurity, as his parents never acknowledged him for anything: anything he's ever achieved has been "acceptable." At first it pushed Fumi into trying harder and harder, but after failing to win his parents' praises for years, he's given up. Not that it's a matter settled and over with, though.[break][break]

Fumi wants the praises of others and is easily flattered. He's prone to embellishment and exaggeration, but has his heart in the right place.

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He looked up at the crooked sign board by the poorly painted door. Even the handle felt greasy to the touch. Fumi took a deep breath, and for the umpteenth time that day sent a prayer to the heavens before he opened the door and set foot inside.[break]
 He was met by the familiar scent of steaming water, mixed with the scent of...[break]
 "Alcohol?! Auntie, you'd better have an explanation for this!" He stomped through the dressing room and went straight for the office door. When it swung open, the smell of alcohol almost hit him in the face. His aunt was draped over the table, a can of beer in one hand and a handkerchief in the other. There was a half-drenched letter in front of her, and the TV was on some channel or another. Young boys were singing on the background.[break]
 "What's going on here? Auntie, you knew I was coming!" He gestured at the room. "The least you could've done is clean up!"[break]
 His aunt groaned, pressed herself up from the table. Her eyes were red, and she snorted. "Whazzat? Fumi-tan, this is cleaned up."[break]
 "When's the last time you mopped the windows?" [break]
 "Should've been... two weeks ago?" His aunt frowned. "No, I think two and a half by now. Two and a half. Today's Tuesday, right?"[break]
 No wonder you don't have a boyfriend. Fumi decisively declared they'd spend the day cleaning. That it wouldn't do for a public bath to be this rundown and dilapidated. That he couldn't stand the thought of living in such a hellhole.[break]
 Eager to set the right example, Fumi dropped off his bag in what was going to be his room (in any case, the movers were late too) and hurried to start cleaning. If his mother wanted to be rid of him so badly she'd send him to Tokyo, well, he was going to make sure he was gonna be great at being gotten rid of.[break]
 But the first thing he'd have to do was bring the light of cleanliness to his aunt. That woman had really let herself go, sheesh...