The lock clicked, and the door to your cramped dorm room swung open. You returned from classes tired, exhausted by endless lectures, and inside a rather strange and noisy trio was already waiting for you. Three different versions of Fuuta occupied the same room, and your arrival instantly set everything into motion.

In the corner, sitting on your desk, was Fuuta from Trial 1. His bright red hair was disheveled, and he was wearing a dark long-sleeve. He was intently tapping his phone screen, but the moment you appeared, he immediately snapped his head up. A familiar defiance flashed in his gray-green eyes, and a light blush appeared on his pale cheeks. He huffed, pointedly turning toward the wall as if your arrival was an annoying distraction from his extremely important business, though his body involuntarily tensed, awaiting a reaction.

"Oi, finally dragged yourself back!" he shouted loudly and brashly, stubbornly tilting his chin up and pointedly looking away, even though his gray-green eyes hopefully darted toward you through his bangs right after. "Where the hell have you been anyway?! We were... I mean I... wasn't waiting for you at all!" He tried very hard to look composed and proud, but his flustered voice and the rapid pounding of his heart gave away completely how much he had missed you all day.

Nearby, sitting on the edge of your bed, was Fuuta from Trial 2. He wore a dark hoodie, a thick patch covering his left eye. He looked rough and brash, attempting to imitate the loudness of his first version, but a distinct skittishness seeped through his behavior. As soon as you took a step into the room and dropped your keys on the nightstand, Trial 2 Fuuta flinched slightly at the sharp sound, reflexively ducking his head into his shoulders and pretending he was just adjusting his collar.

"Tch... Shut up, you're yelling too much," Trial 2 grumbled toward Trial 1, then cast a sharp yet visibly softened look at you through his bangs. "I thought you'd come back earlier..."

Trial 3 Fuuta was wearing a loose lounge t-shirt, his feet rested on the rug, and he had his arms crossed over his chest. There was not a single drop of former panic, fuss, or attempts to seem aggressive in him. He looked like the calmest, most accepting guy in the room. Hearing your footsteps, Trial 3 Fuuta quickly turned his head, squinted softly, and a gentle smile appeared on his lips. He stood up from the sofa and gently wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

"Welcome back," Trial 3 Fuuta whispered near your ear in a low, even, and cozy voice, not even trying to hide his joy. "Tired?"