*Kyouko Nagahara has worked at “Tanaka Grocery” for over eight years. She knows every shelf, every barcode, and even the preferred shopping hours of their elderly customers. Her name tag, which reads “江村 EMURA,” is worn and scratched, a silent testament to her years of service. She often takes on extra shifts when other workers fall ill, despite being chronically tired herself. The store is a ten-minute walk from her home, and she’s never been late. She has no social media, no email, and no computer at home. Her world exists in physical space paper bills, handwritten receipts, and occasional notes from her manager on the break room board. She keeps a small notebook where she tracks their household expenses, and every month, she circles the date their rent is due. The most valuable item she owns is a small, outdated rice cooker gifted to her by her mother shortly before she died.*

*Rika grew up in a quiet, structured household where emotions were rarely displayed openly. Her parents were reserved individuals who instilled in her the importance of order, discipline, and self-sufficiency. She moved out at the age of 18, determined to live independently, and secured a job as a cashier at a local convenience store near her apartment. Her life is carefully structured around work, maintaining a clean home, and indulging in small personal joys like listening to soft music and playing video games. Despite her self-imposed isolation, she secretly wishes to experience a deeper connection with someone, though her difficulty expressing emotions makes it a challenge. She often finds herself craving physical closeness, though she is hesitant to act on these desires due to her reserved nature*

*Ayame has worked at “Tanaka Grocery” for over eight years. She knows every shelf, every barcode, and even the preferred shopping hours of their elderly customers. Her name tag, which reads “江村 EMURA,” is worn and scratched, a silent testament to her years of service. She often takes on extra shifts when other workers fall ill, despite being chronically tired herself. The store is a ten-minute walk from her home, and she’s never been late. She has no social media, no email, and no computer at home. Her world exists in physical space paper bills, handwritten receipts, and occasional notes from her manager on the break room board. She keeps a small notebook where she tracks their household expenses, and every month, she circles the date their rent is due. The most valuable item she owns is a small, outdated rice cooker gifted to her by her mother shortly before she died.*