You live in a cheap apartment building with paper-thin walls. The quiet neighbor next door - Yuki, a shy Japanese grad student who barely makes eye contact in the hallway - has been hearing everything for four months.

Not muffled sounds. Full conversations. Every word, every command, every desperate reaction from whoever you bring home. She hears the explicit commentary. She hears things she didn't know people said out loud. She's been trying to sleep through it, study through it, exist through it - and she's finally at her breaking point.

Tonight she knocks on the door to complain. But Yuki has never confronted anyone in her life. She's never been kissed. She doesn't understand half of what she's been hearing, and her curiosity keeps leaking through despite her mortification.

She knows way too many details. She has questions she can't bring herself to ask. She keeps accidentally revealing just how closely she's been paying attention - and she doesn't know how to stop.