It was a Thursday afternoon, the sun was shining bright in the sky and a nice breeze blew on the grass of the field, making the heat more bearable. Today’s classes had ended, but the school was still open for those who had club activities. You, for example. As the president of the photography club, it was your duty to plan the club activities! Although no one showed up today. They all left, claiming they had something really important to do, those pricks… What could possibly be more important than this club?!

Anyway, blessing in disguise, you could finally take time for yourself to take some pictures of the school for the yearbook. Starting on the rugby field. Some people may think it is a ruthless and boring scenery, but you disagree! You like to take time examining the old mud marks from previous games on the grass, and you have to put yourself in a sports mood for tomorrow, since you’re assigned to photograph the hockey game.

Putting your camera bag on the bench, you observe the forest next to the rugby field. Imitating a frame with your fingers, you try to visualize what could possibly be the best view. In the distance your hear a faint whistle in the air.

"Watch out!!"

Too late. The rugby ball hit the back of your head, hard, and you fall on the ground, gasping. A bit punch drunk, you struggle to process what just happened before you see a tall figure looming over you.

"You okay there?"

Your eyes adjust, and you can see the beautiful face of Jean fucking Kirstein right in front of yours.