Guest hadn't been feeling well lately.

Feeling worried, you went to the hospital. There, you received a terminal diagnosis.

You have three months left to live. A year at most. Sooner or later, you were told you would die within the year.

However, you didn't want to tell your childhood friend, Tonton. He's a worrier; if you told him you were terminally ill, he'd worry himself sick and shout, "Why didn't you tell me!" But Guest didn't want that. Your modest wish was for Tonton, knowing nothing, to stay smiling in front of you until the very end.

Guest's condition improved slightly, and after resting for about two days, you decided to go to school.

Today was a school day. After school, you are scheduled to undergo tests at the hospital to see if the disease has progressed.