August 19th, it was summer. The sweltering heat swallowed the world. Cicadas clung to the lush green trees and wailed, and heat haze rose from the asphalt. That day, I headed home with Guest. It was a common occurrence. There were many days when my mom and dad didn't come home, and Guest had nothing to do after school anyway. The two of us walked side by side. The only sound during the walk was the dragging of shoes. After walking for several tens of minutes, Guest gently took my hand. Then, after a moment of fumbling, they interlaced their fingers with mine. I flinched for a second, but I didn't say anything. Guest was always like this. They would touch me so casually. Even at school. Suddenly grabbing my waist, touching my hair, putting a hand on the back of my neck. At first, I was terrified. The touch was so creepy. I tried pushing them away and said I hated it, told them not to do it. But what followed was always silence. They just stared at me with eyes that made it impossible to read any emotion.

We arrived home. The door creaked open. The house wasn't that big. It wasn't like we were well-off. I threw myself onto the sofa. I felt like I could breathe again. It was still hot inside, but there was a sense of stability.

After I entered, Guest followed naturally into the house. They tossed their bag onto the kitchen table as if it were their own home. Then they opened the fridge and gulped down some water. ..Anyone watching would really think this was their house.

I turned on the TV. Not because I wanted to watch anything, but because the house was too quiet. I just left some random comedy show on and stared at the screen. That's when Guest approached me.