A burned-out office worker and a ghost child who doesn't understand why adults destroy themselves, that's the entire show, and it needs nothing else. The ghost's solution to everything is "go home," delivered with a whine that somehow becomes the most honest advice anyone's given her in years. Twelve episodes of someone finally being told to stop, by the last person who should care, and actually listening.
Fushihara lives the life of every overworked salaryman: endless overtime, mountains of paperwork, and the creeping suspicion that her soul left her body weeks ago. Her apartment is less a home and more a place where she collapses before returning to the office grind. Then one night, she discovers she's not alone. A small ghost girl haunts her living space, and instead of the usual supernatural horror setup, this tiny specter becomes genuinely concerned about Fushihara's wellbeing. Armed with nothing but determination and an oddly comforting presence, the ghost girl wages a one-spirit campaign to drag Fushihara away from her desk, pressing snacks into her hands and insisting she rest. What unfolds is a quiet comedy about two unlikely companions finding comfort in each other's company. The ghost girl's innocent worry and clumsy attempts at caretaking gradually soften Fushihara's burnout-hardened heart. Sweet without veering into saccharine, this series finds humor in the mundane desperation of corporate life while celebrating how small moments of genuine care can heal what exhaustion has broken.