Dead Hours Inkroost
Dead Hours
Out of Reach · Ch.32
Right to left
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This series reads right to left — start each page from the top-right panel.
A spotless 24-hour convenience store at night; Kaito stands alone at the register while Rin leans on the far counter on her phone, rain on the windows.
A tipsy salaryman enters holding a silver star balloon and buys a single beer while Rin films him.
The balloon slips free and floats up to the ceiling as the oblivious salaryman walks out into the rain.
Kaito resolves to get the balloon down while Rin starts livestreaming 'Man versus Balloon.'
Kaito stretches up on tiptoe but his fingers fall just short of the balloon, which drifts away trailing a faint thread.
The tall, shaved-head tracksuit regular looks up at the balloon and tells Kaito to just leave it.
Kaito tries to knock the balloon down with a push broom but still comes up an inch short.
Kaito stands motionless in the aisle, broom in hand, staring straight up at the balloon on the ceiling.
The drunk salaryman returns but only for his umbrella and doesn't remember the balloon at all.
Kaito leans on the broom and spirals over how long helium lasts while Rin films.
A cheerful jogger insists helium balloons last exactly a day, contradicting the regular's guess.
Rin lowers her phone for a moment, almost sincere, as Kaito quietly explains why the balloon matters.
Kaito climbs a milk crate for a final swing, misses again, and topples off onto his back.
Exhausted, Kaito slumps on the floor against the counter, broom beside him, the balloon still overhead.
As Kaito finally gives up and sits with open hands, the deflating balloon sinks down into his palm.
Kaito turns to return the balloon but the owner is long gone; Rin reveals a thread tied to its string.
Rin reveals her stream hit four hundred thousand and plucks the balloon away, leaving Kaito empty-handed.
In bright morning daylight the spotless store looks exactly as it began — and a fresh silver star balloon already bobs at the ceiling.
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/ 18
A spotless 24-hour convenience store at night; Kaito stands alone at the register while Rin leans on the far counter on her phone, rain on the windows.
A tipsy salaryman enters holding a silver star balloon and buys a single beer while Rin films him.
The balloon slips free and floats up to the ceiling as the oblivious salaryman walks out into the rain.
Kaito resolves to get the balloon down while Rin starts livestreaming 'Man versus Balloon.'
Kaito stretches up on tiptoe but his fingers fall just short of the balloon, which drifts away trailing a faint thread.
The tall, shaved-head tracksuit regular looks up at the balloon and tells Kaito to just leave it.
Kaito tries to knock the balloon down with a push broom but still comes up an inch short.
Kaito stands motionless in the aisle, broom in hand, staring straight up at the balloon on the ceiling.
The drunk salaryman returns but only for his umbrella and doesn't remember the balloon at all.
Kaito leans on the broom and spirals over how long helium lasts while Rin films.
A cheerful jogger insists helium balloons last exactly a day, contradicting the regular's guess.
Rin lowers her phone for a moment, almost sincere, as Kaito quietly explains why the balloon matters.
Kaito climbs a milk crate for a final swing, misses again, and topples off onto his back.
Exhausted, Kaito slumps on the floor against the counter, broom beside him, the balloon still overhead.
As Kaito finally gives up and sits with open hands, the deflating balloon sinks down into his palm.
Kaito turns to return the balloon but the owner is long gone; Rin reveals a thread tied to its string.
Rin reveals her stream hit four hundred thousand and plucks the balloon away, leaving Kaito empty-handed.
In bright morning daylight the spotless store looks exactly as it began — and a fresh silver star balloon already bobs at the ceiling.

Chapter complete

You finished Out of Reach (Ch.32) of Dead Hours. Nice roost to rest at.

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← Open and Shut · Ch.31
Text Version A written companion to this chapter — for accessibility, screen readers, and search.

3 A.M., rain on the dead-hours store. A tipsy salaryman celebrating a promotion buys a single beer and, on his way out, lets the string of his shiny silver star balloon slip from his wrist — it rises to the ceiling and he wanders off into the rain, oblivious. Kaito, unable to bear a stray thing loose in his airspace and certain the happy stranger will want his balloon back, declares quiet war on getting it down before the morning delivery, spiraling over how long helium even lasts — a fact nobody can verify. All night he reaches for it to the identical dead-eyed beat of his fingers, then a broom, then a wobbling crate falling an inch short as the balloon drifts just out of reach and he mutters '...missed.' A ladder of night-shift regulars each give a different unverifiable verdict — the tracksuit regular says leave it, it'll come down in a day, maybe two; the drunk owner returns only for his umbrella and doesn't remember owning a balloon at all; a cheerful jogger insists helium lasts exactly one day. Rin quietly livestreams the whole vigil as 'Man vs Balloon,' with one flicker of near-sincerity — that he's the only person alive who'd try to save a drunk stranger's balloon, and it's kind of sweet — before raising her phone again. Near dawn, hollow and defeated, Kaito finally stops reaching and sinks to the floor, hands open — and the balloon, its helium spent, sinks on its own and settles gently into his open hand, the running beat inverting into a rare genuine almost-smile. But when he turns to return it, the owner left hours ago and never wanted it. Then the reveal Rin planted in the first minute pays off: she tied a near-invisible fishing thread to the balloon's string the instant it rose and steered it just out of his reach all night — every '...missed' was her, and it made great content. Her 'Man vs Balloon' hits four hundred thousand viewers. Unable to bear a rescued thing nobody wants, Kaito moves to keep it — and Rin plucks it from his fingers for her outro. Kaito is left with an empty upturned hand; he gets nothing. Dawn light fills the spotless store exactly as the night began — and up against the ceiling a fresh silver star balloon already bobs where the last one was, Rin's phone already raised, already live.

Page 1

Wide establishing shot of the empty convenience store during the dead-of-night shift. Rain streaks the front windows and the street beyond is dark and empty. Kaito, in his striped store apron and KAITO name tag, stands calmly behind the register with a faint almost-smile, hands resting on the counter. Down the counter, Rin, in her hoodie and apron with a RIN name tag, scrolls her phone. KAITO: 'Three A.M. The good part of the shift.'

Page 2

A tipsy salaryman in a rumpled suit strides in grinning, a silver star-shaped foil balloon on a string looped around his wrist. SALARYMAN: 'I got promoted! Section chief!' He sets a single can of beer on the counter and Kaito rings it up. SALARYMAN: 'Big night! Huge night!' KAITO: 'Just the beer. Congratulations.' Rin lifts her phone to film the grinning man and his balloon. RIN: 'Content.'

Page 3

At the sliding doors the string slips off the salaryman's wrist and the silver star balloon begins to rise. He wanders out into the rain without noticing. SALARYMAN: 'Night, kid! Section... chief...' The balloon drifts up and comes to rest against the ceiling beside the round white speaker. Behind the register, Kaito tips his head back to stare up at it. KAITO: '...He forgot his balloon.'

Page 4

Kaito stares up at the balloon, jaw set with quiet resolve. KAITO: 'It's his. He'll want it back.' RIN: 'He will not.' Rin raises her phone to frame him. RIN: 'Going live. Man versus Balloon.' Kaito rolls up one apron sleeve, determined. KAITO: 'I have until the morning delivery.'

Page 5

The running gag, first beat: Kaito rises on his toes and reaches straight up, but his fingertips fall an inch short of the silver star balloon. KAITO: '...missed.' The balloon drifts off to a new spot, a faint thin thread trailing from its string back toward the counter where Rin stands. KAITO: 'It moved.' RIN: 'Weird.'

Page 6

The tracksuit regular — tall, shaved head, grey zip-up tracksuit, clear plastic bag of empty cans — comes in from the rain. Kaito points up at the balloon. KAITO: 'Excuse me — can you reach that?' The regular looks up, unbothered. REGULAR: 'Leave it. Helium goes, it comes down.' KAITO: 'When?' He shrugs and heads off with his bag of cans. REGULAR: 'Day. Maybe two.' KAITO: 'Can't have this thing floating for two days.' Rin films. RIN: 'Expert says: a day. Maybe two.'

Page 7

Kaito grabs a long push broom from behind the counter. KAITO: 'New plan.' The running gag, second beat: he stretches up with the broom, its bristles still an inch short of the balloon. KAITO: '...missed.' The balloon bobs higher, out of range; a single sweat drop at his temple. KAITO: 'It's avoiding me.' RIN: 'It's a balloon.'

Page 8

A quiet, wordless beat. Kaito stands alone in the middle of the aisle, the broom hanging at his side, head tipped all the way back to stare up at the silver star balloon resting against the ceiling. Rain runs down the windows behind him. No dialogue.

Page 9

The doors ding and the salaryman leans back in from the rain. Kaito spins toward him hopefully, broom in hand. KAITO: 'Sir! Your balloon—' SALARYMAN: 'My what?' Kaito points up at the balloon. KAITO: 'Your balloon. It floated up.' SALARYMAN: 'I didn't have a balloon.' KAITO: 'You came in holding it.' The man grabs a clear umbrella from the stand. SALARYMAN: 'I came in for beer. And my umbrella.' The doors close; Kaito stares after him. RIN: 'He doesn't want it.' KAITO: 'He's confused. I'll hold it for him.'

Page 10

Kaito leans on the broom, gazing up at the lone balloon. KAITO: 'How long does helium even last?' He counts on his fingers. KAITO: 'A day? A week? Nobody actually knows.' He gestures up at it like it is a great mystery. KAITO: 'If I sit, it wins. If I reach, it runs.' RIN: 'Deep.'

Page 11

A cheerful jogger with a headband and towel bounces in from the rain. KAITO: 'Don't suppose you can reach a balloon.' He glances up and gives a confident thumbs up. JOGGER: 'Those? Gone in exactly a day. Science!' KAITO: 'The other guy said two days.' JOGGER: 'He's wrong. Definitely a day.' Rin tallies the contradictions on camera. RIN: 'A day, two days, and leave it. Nobody knows.'

Page 12

Rin lowers her phone slightly, a rare soft look on her usually bored face. RIN: 'You're really gonna save a drunk guy's balloon.' Kaito answers without looking away from it. KAITO: 'Somebody was happy. It shouldn't just float away.' Rin raises the phone again, the bored mask back. RIN: '...Kind of sweet. Anyway. Still live.'

Page 13

Kaito drags a milk crate under the balloon and climbs up, broom raised. KAITO: 'Final attempt.' He stretches high, teeth gritted. KAITO: 'Come. Here.' The running gag, third beat at its peak: the broom is still a hair short. KAITO: '...missed.' The crate wobbles under him. KAITO: 'Whoa—' He topples off and lands flat on his back, the balloon serene on the ceiling above. KAITO: '...' Rin films from overhead. RIN: 'Man versus Balloon. Balloon leads.'

Page 14

A quiet, wordless beat. Beaten, Kaito sits slumped on the floor with his back against the counter, knees up and head bowed, the broom lying beside him. High above, the silver star balloon still rests against the ceiling as the first pale pre-dawn grey shows in the windows. No dialogue.

Page 15

Kaito sits cross-legged on the floor, hands open and no longer reaching, a serene, defeated almost-smile on his face. KAITO: '...Fine. You win.' The balloon, its helium spent, sinks down and settles gently into his open upturned hand. His eyes widen into a rare, genuine almost-smile — the running gag inverted, the balloon coming to him the moment he stops chasing it. KAITO: '...Got you.'

Page 16

Kaito scrambles up, balloon in hand, turning eagerly toward the doors. KAITO: 'Okay — where's the—' The wet street outside is empty in the grey dawn. KAITO: '...He left hours ago.' Rin lowers her phone and holds up a length of near-invisible thread. RIN: 'Yeah. About the balloon.' One end of it is tied to the balloon's string in Kaito's hand. RIN: 'I tied a thread to it when it went up.' KAITO: 'You... steered it.' Rin shrugs, still recording. RIN: 'Every missed was me. Great content.'

Page 17

Rin turns her phone around to show a soaring view count. RIN: 'Man vs Balloon hit four hundred thousand.' KAITO: 'So the whole night... it was you.' RIN: 'Mm.' Kaito looks at the deflated balloon, hollow. KAITO: 'He doesn't want it. Nobody wants it.' Unable to discard it, he moves to tie it to the leg of the counter stool. KAITO: '...I'll keep it. Someone should.' Rin's hand darts in and plucks the string from his fingers. RIN: 'Mine now. For the outro.' Kaito stares at his empty upturned hand. KAITO: '...I got nothing.' RIN: 'You got four hundred thousand friends.'

Page 18

Dawn mirror of the opening shot: bright morning light fills the spotless store, the rain stopped and the street empty. Kaito stands worn out at the register; beside him Rin already raises her phone. Up against the ceiling, a fresh silver star balloon bobs exactly where the last one was — a new customer near the door has just let one slip. KAITO: '...Not again.' RIN: 'Already live.'