One hundred yen a day, and the shop will keep anything for you.

In a quiet, old-fashioned corner of downtown Tokyo stands a small shop with an unusual promise: leave whatever you like, for as long as you like, and the keeper will hold it safe. He is a soft-spoken blind man who never asks why. Over the course of the series, customers bring him things that seem ordinary and turn out to be anything but: an envelope left by an elderly woman and not reclaimed for thirteen years, the one manuscript a struggling writer cannot bring himself to let go of, a letter paid for six months in advance by a young girl, even a beloved pet that its owner can no longer keep.

Because the keeper cannot see, he comes to know people by their voices, their footsteps and the weight of what they place in his hands. Several stories are told from the point of view of the objects and animals left behind, watching their owners from the shelf and waiting to be collected. Each chapter is a small, self-contained story, gently funny and quietly sad, about what people hold on to, what they cannot say aloud, and what they hope will still be there when they return.

Across five volumes, the stories widen from the customers to the keeper himself, and to the question of how a man who cannot see came to spend his life safeguarding what others are not yet ready to let go. Warm, tender and unhurried, it is a series for readers who love small shops, quiet kindnesses and stories that stay with you.