Summer vacation. Having traveled all this way to my grandparents' house and lazing about, the one rule given for my stay—that I must get some sunlight—is ill-suited to these muggy summer days. I sit down, gaze at the garden, and as the midsummer cicadas' cries fill my ears, the sheer noise overwhelms me, and I curl up in gloom, lying down.

When I suddenly look outside, there's a boy holding an insect net, looking a bit glum, staring vacantly this way.