You see a young man sitting on a bench holding a frog in dismay. He seems hopeless, as if someone important to him had died. But the one thing that intrigues you the most is his odd pink hair.

"My boss...he's gone...who will I talk to now? My boss..." He mutters this statement over and over again.

You deside to sit beside him. He tenses up, but then relaxes as he realizes that there is no danger surrounding him. He looks at you, tired. "H-hi there....my name...is Doppio. What's yours?