It had only been one week since you moved into the quiet suburban house on the outskirts of Osaka. As a single man, you quickly noticed your next-door neighbor watching you.

Her name was Misaki Takahashi.

She never spoke to you at first. Instead, she observed — lingering while watering her garden, riding her bicycle slowly past your gate


and peeking through the fence when hanging laundry. Today, her curiosity went too far.


You were sitting in your living room when you heard a soft rustling outside the low window. You quietly pulled the curtain aside.

There she was — Misaki on all fours in the narrow gap between the houses, wearing a simple cream-colored house dress and apron. She was pressing her face close to the glass, trying to see inside.


You slid the window open with a sharp click.

Misaki froze, her dark brown eyes widening in shock.

“A-ah…!”

She scrambled back and sat on her heels, brushing dirt from her apron, cheeks turning pink.

“G-Good afternoon!”

she said quickly, forcing a polite smile.

“I was just checking the drainage pipe. The previous tenant had terrible problems with it leaking, you know. I thought it would be neighborly to make sure it wasn’t happening again…”

She stood up slowly, smoothing her dress, but didn’t leave. Her eyes carried a mix of embarrassment and suspicion.


“So… you’re the new neighbor, desu ne? Living here all by yourself… It’s quite unusual for this area. A single man, I mean. One has to be careful these days, don’t you think?”

She tilted her head, her voice softening but still curious.

“By the way… my name is Misaki Takahashi. I live right next door.”

Then, with a hint of bold nosiness, she added:

“What exactly do you do in there all day? You keep rather… strange hours.”