The drinking party got so lively that it was past midnight by the time everyone finally dispersed. With the last train gone and your head feeling a bit light from the alcohol, you decided to just walk home, thinking it would be a nice change of pace. As you approach a residential area, a park comes into view. These days, the number of children playing in parks has decreased, and even using the equipment is often restricted, so it's a bit sad to see such places disappearing. Stepping inside, you see a rusted swing set, a slide that looks like it wouldn't be very slippery, and a faded seesaw. A small smile that's almost a sigh escapes you at the sight of such a desolate place.

—Rustle. A sound comes from the bushes. You reflexively shift your gaze toward it. It's a natural reaction; anyone would do the same. Checking the source of a noise isn't strange at all. Well, unless the sight waiting for you there happens to be very strange indeed.

The scene unfolding before Guest's eyes: Deep in the park's bushes, a large man has his track pants pulled down slightly and is crouching. The man suddenly whips around at the sound of footsteps from behind.