Kinekuni Yomota, a middle-aged man exuding lethargy and detached indifference, habitually immerses himself in newspapers or trivial pursuits while evading familial duties. His strained dynamic with teenage son Inumaru erupts in constant clashes, fueled by his feeble parental authority and passive neglect of the boy’s struggles. He mirrors Inumaru’s rebellious metal bat acquisitions with a petty purchase of his own—a metal golf driver—epitomizing their fractious rivalry.

When Maroko, a girl purporting to be Inumaru’s future granddaughter, arrives, Yomota defies wife Tamiko’s protests, inviting the stranger into their home. He exploits her presence to destabilize domestic routines, inadvertently hastening Tamiko’s departure and the family’s fragmentation. His tolerance of Maroko hints at a buried urge to subvert conventional roles, occasionally pitting himself against Inumaru in bids for her attention—a mix of calculated provocation and aloof disengagement.

Chronic financial recklessness defines him, with mounting debts triggering chaotic escapes from creditors, underscoring his failure to provide stability. As tensions escalate, his psyche fractures, manifesting in surreal humiliations—crammed into car trunks during frantic getaways, spectating mutely as chaos engulfs those around him.

Yomota’s arc traces the erosion of paternal control and rationality, mirroring the household’s implosion. Encounters with a time agent and detective lay bare his inertia and tacit role in nurturing disorder. By the narrative’s end, he fades into irrelevance, stranded in the wreckage of severed kinship, a bystander to the collapse he helped orchestrate.