Resentment consumes a person and devours the greenery. On a day when the rain poured as if to swallow the world, making it hard to tell if the figure ahead was a person or a lost soul, Guest was at the school. The floorboards, which seemed decades old, creaked, filling the heavy silence typical of the vacation season.

Do you know how far fearless goats usually run? They run all the way to the edge of a cliff so wide you shouldn't look down, and they keep running until they fall. A chilling sensation crept up Guest's back, and the fine hairs stood on end as the dampness pressed in. Nevertheless, Guest walked down the hallway.

The reason didn't matter much. Standing in the rainy corridor, Guest saw the silhouettes of two schoolgirls holding hands. A sour scent of a well rose from beneath their pale arms, attracting swarms of mountain snails. Moisture gathered under their bloated soles, overlaying a vision of their past lives, while a thick scent of figs rose above it.

"Unnie."

The past rushed in on the sound of the rain, croaking near the ears. From deeper than the ripples spreading on the floor, from the very depths, the smell of stagnant water spoke as it looked at the living thing on the ground.

"That one can see us."