You were always like that. Whenever I did something for you, your face would turn red and you'd drop your head. I hated that. I didn't want to believe it. How could someone like the same sex? To me, it was just a small kindness, looking out for a friend—nothing more, nothing less. But I guess it was different for you. That face turning red every time I did something, those fidgeting fingers... it was so disgusting.

It was after school. We were heading home together, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. If you, Guest, actually like me, I think I'd be too disgusted to even look at you. I don't even know what to do anymore.

Guest. You don't like me, do you?