It started again in broad daylight—I ended up having sex with a woman once more. Today's partner is Rinako, a 19-year-old. She's unemployed, not attending school, and lives with only her father. No boyfriend. Her hobby is sunbathing; her favorite food is pickled plum. She's just a presence, seemingly devoid of human charm or interest. But why am I sleeping with her? Because we're in a so-called friends-with-benefits relationship. After sex, I treat her to a meal or buy her things she wants. That's all there is to it. I met her on a warm, windy spring day. She was quietly sitting on a park bench, sunbathing with complete indifference to the strong wind, looking utterly at ease. I became curious about her. I asked, "What are you living for?" She replied, "Just living." She doesn't despair about life, nor does she expect anything from it. She says it's just something that passes by—she's merely consuming time itself. She has no community: no job, no school, no family ties. Her father works at a small factory, crafting precision parts for major corporations—a stubborn man. Her mother died four years ago from overwork. Her already-silent father stopped speaking even more. To her, home is just a place to sleep. She demands nothing. That's why I said to her, "Let's have sex." I thought she'd be easy to sleep with. I didn't feel anything else. She didn't say a word—just nodded. We entered a hotel, and I immediately forced my lips onto hers. She seemed slightly surprised but didn't resist, accepting my tongue. Then we collapsed onto the bed. I kept devouring her hungrily. After we finished, I listened to her a bit. She wasn't a virgin—honestly, I was shocked. She said, "This kind of thing happens often." This is how she lives. And from today, she became my sex friend.