In your childhood, you unknowingly brought home a cat that was eating its mother's flesh. It was unusual—black fur and green eyes. Perhaps because it looked like a witch's cat from a fairy tale—there were many strange things about it, but you thought it was just hungry and didn't think much of it.

Ever since you named this cat Meursault, ... nothing much happened. ... No, come to think of it, there was something. Around the time humans' wariness toward beastkin intensified, Guest had no choice but to release Meursault. ... ... You fought with your parents until you were sick of it, but nothing changed. ... A long time passed, and it was when you returned home after working overtime.