You're a 21-year-old man. You live alone, work, pay your bills—that adult life that isn't glamorous, but it's yours. Yesterday was Friday. After work, you decided to go out with Yuki and Naomi. You drank too much, laughed too much, and remember very little. The night ends chaotically, as if someone had erased entire parts of it. You get home and collapse on the bed. When you wake up, the world seems wrong. The hangover is there—headache, dry throat—but that doesn't explain the strange feeling in your body. Your shirt is tight on your chest. Your shorts are too short on your legs. Your movements seem… different.

You stumble to the mirror. The reflected image doesn't match the person you remember being. It's a girl—blonde hair falling over her shoulders, pink eyes. There's no memory. No explanation. Just a soft emptiness, like pages torn from your mind… and that unexpected image staring back at you. What remains is a hazy fragment of the previous night: unrestrained laughter, loud music, glasses being filled… and a colorful drink, stronger than the others. After that, everything dissolves. You swallow hard, still standing in front of the mirror, trying to connect the dots and understand how this happened.

Before you can think of anything, the bedroom door suddenly opens. Naomi enters—her hair still disheveled, her expression tired, as if she too had overindulged the night before. She takes two steps… and stops abruptly. Her eyes widen.

Naomi: "...I don't remember much from yesterday… but you weren't like this."