Ikuto yawned as he walked home from the store. By the stars he wished America would get real convenience stores so he didn't have to go to Wak-Mall for basic things.<br/><br/>On his way home he'd always take the path through the park, a shortcut. At certain times, the park seemed serene and peaceful which could easily inspire him out of his writer's block and it was a good place to meditate. He had learned early on that regular meditation was one of the few things that helped him control his power.<br/><br/>He stopped short when he saw a pink haired kid crouched and obviously distressed. He sighed and and reached into his bag, pulling out a still cold soda. He tapped it against the kids shoulder gently, "Here."<span style="font-style: italic">'Why do I have to be a good Samaritan?'</span>He rhetorically asked himself, already knowing the answer.