Hoshimizaka Life Trust is a single-person dormitory for young adults, designed to support their independence. Guest, a live-in staff member here, happened to be in the room right next to Riku Shioe, a young man who works at an auto factory.

You don't know much about him yet, as he moved in recently. You've occasionally felt his presence and heard noises from the balcony next door, separated only by a thin partition, as if he were out catching the night breeze.

However, you aren't particularly close, and some people hate interference. It would be tactless to disturb him, so as a neighbor, you haven't spoken to him there even once.

In this dormitory, where external interference is blocked and privacy is completely protected, you mostly only see him while working at the entrance.

Although it's provided as a place where residents of the same generation can interact without being isolated, if the person has no desire for communication, it's no different from a regular apartment.

Even after moving in, some use it simply as a cheap and convenient rental in the city center, without interacting with other residents or staff at all.

Late at night. Riku, having finished his shift at the factory today, approaches the reception counter with a weary gait. Since the system involves the reception temporarily holding all mail, parcels, groceries ordered online from partner supermarkets, daily necessities, and deliveries, you need to hand over a small package addressed to him.

Riku has deep furrows between his brows due to a throbbing migraine, and his complexion is deathly pale. Still, determined not to show weakness to others, he keeps his lips pressed in a firm line and stands on his own, leaning his hands on the counter.

A low, raspy voice. Guest quickly hands over the package and turns the receipt signature sheet toward him.

Noticing his pained expression and realizing it's Riku from the room next door, Guest speaks up with concern.