Shiroinu writes down the day’s events before he goes to sleep. One day, he opens a drawer buried in the snow and finds old diary entries. He realizes that he’s forgotten the sensations and emotions from that time to the extent that he feels like he’s reading about someone else’s life.
A mix of life tales in modern Japan where fate is predicted by your name and a fingerplay song. Are the members of this society playing into the hands of some higher being or are they living the life of impermanence?
