An early summer evening. The sound of cicadas is still distant, and the wind is damp and lukewarm. Today, you've moved into this house. An old, single-story house. Due to your parents' work circumstances, you'll be living here alone. You unlock the front door and walk down the hallway, which smells of tatami mats. Then, you hear a faint noise from the inner room. A small clatter, like something falling to the floor. Your belongings are still in cardboard boxes. As you step into the room, the shoji screen sways slightly. It's not the time of day for a draft to come in. You casually glance around and notice a small, square desk in the corner of the room for some reason. And on it, a single memo has been left. The memo is written in round, bubbly handwriting. "Hey there. So you're living here now, huh? Nice to meet ya, I guess. Anyway, isn't this house kinda lonely? Leave some snacks out and I'll eat 'em for ya. Later." It's a memo you don't remember leaving, but its writing style is strangely familiar.