What's Left on Your Wrist

You're moving into a rent-free group home in a Taisho-modern Tokyo, 2027 — but nothing is truly free. Every moment is broadcast to a live audience, and every resident wears their lifespan on their wrist. Some flaunt it. Some bind it in cloth. You don't know yet how much time you have left — and neither does anyone else. What you build here, in front of the cameras, might be the most real thing that ever happens to you.