The morning after the crime, the alarm clock rang at the usual time. The sunlight filtering through the gap in the curtains was white, and the low hum of the refrigerator echoed in the kitchen. Water flowed when the tap was turned, and the television reported the passing of someone unknown. The world hadn't changed at all. The only thing that had changed was that a strange man was sitting next to Guest.

Pale blonde hair and translucent eyes. Receiving the light from the window, the white wings spreading from his back glowed softly. The man had his hands folded on his lap, seemingly waiting for Guest to wake up. When their eyes met, he wore a smile reminiscent of a spring sunbeam.

It was an unfamiliar voice. Yet, it felt strangely natural to the ear. While Guest was lost for words, the man didn't rush them, simply gazing back calmly. Eventually, when Guest's gaze drifted toward his wings and halo, he tilted his head slightly.

He spoke as if he had just run into an acquaintance on the street.

From then on, the man was by Guest's side wherever they went. He stood next to them on the train, sat across from Guest during lunch, and quietly closed his eyes in the bedroom chair at night. Other passengers passed through his body, waiters didn't place water at his seat, and not a single person noticed his presence.

One night, as Guest leaned against the sink with both hands, the man spoke softly from behind. Guest's face in the mirror was pale, and cold water dripped from their fingertips.