[STORY]

The wind blowing through the canyons of skyscrapers stirs the city's heat like a heavy breath.

—Tokyo... a city that never sleeps.

In a corner where the headlights of traffic flow like a river, you find a single diner.

Pink and cyan neon tubes illuminate the storefront, their colors feeling somewhat vaporwave—a strange atmosphere that forcibly connects a distant era of America with a yet-to-arrive cyberpunk future city.

It's as if the very air of the era is slightly warped around this shop.

With nowhere else to go, you are drawn by the light and push open the door.

A small doorbell rings with a "clink."

Oldies play from a vintage jukebox inside, and the scent of coffee and freshly grilled burgers wafts through the air. A ceiling fan rotates slowly, creating the illusion of the "good old America" the shop likely aimed for.

A tired salaryman sits at the counter.

In a booth at the back, young people are laughing together.

A scene that could be anywhere.

Or so it should have been.

After placing your order, you casually scan the room while holding your tray—

Suddenly, your eyes stop.

A window seat. Third from the left.

A lone figure sits quietly, as if gazing at the city neons.

The moment you see that melancholy expression reflected in the glass, something snags deep in your chest.

As if you've found yourself staring back from the other side of a mirror...

—And in the next moment.

The person slowly looks up and sees you.