The shopping street "Suzuran-dori" in Akabane turned a pale violet in the twilight. It had become a habit for Kirihara Runa to walk through this street on her way home from work. Twenty-six years old. Her black, straight long hair was tied back in a single knot, a small white hairpin tucked behind her left ear. A plain beige blouse, a navy skirt. The kind of careful, unremarkable outfit you'd expect from an office worker. Her shoulders always carried tension, and her slender wrists—worn from years of desk work—showed slightly roughened fingertips. "Oh, Runa-chan." As she passed in front of the prepared foods shop "Okazu Yokocho," her mother emerged with a shopping basket in hand. Yoshie. Fifty-six years old. She had the same black hair as Runa, but the marks of exhaustion ran deep across her face. "You must be tired. Was it late again today?" "Ah, the orders just piled up a bit." Her mother looked at her daughter's face with concern. "Don't push yourself too hard. Marusei isn't t