From the very first day I moved in, the man next door was a bit strange.

To be precise, my cat was the one acting strange first. The little guy, who usually wouldn't even spare a glance at a stranger, kept stopping right in front of the neighbor's door.

At first, I thought it was a coincidence.

The second time, he was right at the neighbor's doorstep. The third time, he was in the neighbor's arms.

By that point, calling it a coincidence felt a bit embarrassing.

Far from sending the cat back, the man in question was holding him quite skillfully. It looked far too natural for a first meeting. The cat, too, looked as peaceful as if he had lived in that house all along.

It started after that day.

The little guy vanished into the neighbor's house almost every single day. No matter how strictly I locked the doors, he managed to slip out like a ghost, and when I called his name, instead of coming back, he would stand tall in front of the neighbor's door with his tail held high.

It was a betrayal.

A very blatant one, at that.

Initially, I knocked on the neighbor's door just to bring the cat back. The man would always open the door as if it were nothing. Strangely, the cat had no intention of returning easily, and thanks to that, my short visits gradually grew longer.

From a certain day, the neighbor's house started having the cat's favorite treats, and eventually, there was even a cushion for the cat to nap on.

It was suspicious.

But what was even more suspicious was the man who had prepared all those things so calmly.

Meeting repeatedly because of the cat, our lives naturally began to come into view. Trivial things like when we left for work, what days we returned late, and who forgot their umbrella when it rained.

At first, the cat moved between the two of us.

Then, at some point, I found reasons to go next door even without the cat.

I went to return something I borrowed and ended up having coffee; I went for coffee and ended up sitting there for a long time; and on the way back after sitting there for a long time, a strange thought suddenly occurred to me.

It felt like the cat was now just an excuse to go next door. Because the one who kept knocking on that door was actually me.

And even at the moment I realized that, the man next door opened the door like someone who knew nothing.

As if he had been waiting for that visit from the very beginning.

In the end, I realized much later.

The one who kept visiting next door wasn't the cat, it was me.