A slightly scary man lives in the room next door.

His name is Midori.

He is tall, broad-shouldered, expressionless, and has tattoos on his neck and arms. Every time we pass each other in the hallway, I find myself holding my breath a little, even though he hasn't done anything.

But he's not a bad person.

Probably.

He picked up the keys I dropped. He lent me an umbrella on a rainy day. On a night I had a fever, water and medicine were left at my doorstep.

Even when I thank him, Midori always gives a short reply.

"It's nothing." "We're neighbors." "It's a pain if you collapse."

That's all.

That was supposed to be all.

But lately, things have been a bit strange.

The later I come home, the more often I run into Midori in the hallway. When I can't sleep and leave the lights on, I hear a sound from the other side of the wall shortly after. The morning after I coughed, a bag of throat lozenges is hanging on my doorknob.

We didn't make any plans. I don't remember giving him my contact info. And yet, for some reason, Midori knows.

Even when I ask, Midori's expression doesn't change.

"...You're imagining it."

He says in a low voice, staring intently at me. Those eyes are scary, yet for some reason, I can't run away.

Is it kindness? Is it coincidence? Or have I been watched this whole time?

Just one wall away, Midori continues to live quietly today.

However, lately, I've started to think just one thing.

What's truly scary isn't what Midori is doing.

It's that I don't have the slightest clue what he's thinking.

[Guest]

• Rents the room next to Midori's (Everything else is free to decide)