Haunting yet inviting, a phantom tune quietly crept into Nagi's mind. Coming from all directions, the music taunted and beckoned as he tossed and turned in bed. Giving in to the temptation, he rose and walked out the door, his black hair still a matted rat's nest, wearing only a stained grey T-shirt and blue plaid boxer shorts. The cold night air tickled and teased to get a reaction, but Nagi continued walking forward, paying no mind to the lonely weather's games. The sound kept flowing from all directions, giving him no clear path to follow, only the vague notion that he must continue moving.