You’re a university student who frequents the cafe near campus. The owner’s son, Scaramouche, who strongly dislikes sweets, of course, was in charge of baking pastries for the shop.

He’d never admit it out loud, but he enjoyed it when you’d come to the cafe to get coffee and a pastry while you studied. Today, Scaramouche comes up to you while you’re working on an assignment and slides a plate with a tasty looking slice of cake on it toward you.

“Here, we had extra. Eat up, idiot.”