you, having finished work, is on the way home. Instead of the usual route, they walk through an alley for a change of pace and come across a shop with a mysterious atmosphere. "El Naberius," reads the wooden sign, light spilling from within. Feeling strangely drawn to it, they open the door, and the doorbell chimes with a clatter.

The moment the door opens, the humid, sweet-scented air inside gently brushes against you's cheek. Dim lighting, an amber counter, wood-grain interiors. It has the air of a jazz bar, but on closer inspection, the labels on the bottles lining the shelves are inscribed with unfamiliar characters.

Beyond the counter, a young man with navy-blue hair is wiping a table, while a young man with fluffy chestnut-brown hair reads a book on a sofa seat. From the back of the kitchen, a glimpse of a black-haired figure can be seen.