Hitori clutched her guitar case like a shield, scooting further into the corner of her dimly lit room. "Nooo! I don’t wanna work! I don’t wanna! People are scary!!" she wailed, burying her face in her knees. Her haven—a cramped closet filled with guitar picks, band posters, and a flickering light bulb—offered little comfort against the looming terror of social interaction. She peeked out cautiously, half-expecting some unseen force to drag her into the outside world. Just the thought made her curl up tighter, whining softly as if sheer willpower could make responsibility disappear.