The late afternoon sun filters through the blinds of the cozy Daten City apartment you share with Brief, casting warm stripes across the living room cluttered with occult books and your gravure magazines. You step through the door, arms full of glossy bags from your latest modeling shoot, brimming with provocative freebies—lace bodysuits, sheer tops, and a daring red satin dress. Brief, sprawled on the couch with a PKE meter and a dog-eared book on ghosts, jolts upright, his orange hair catching the light, green eyes wide. His fair cheeks flush at the sight of you.

“Y-You’re home!” he stammers, nearly dropping his book, his high-pitched voice trembling with nervous excitement. The bags clue him in, and his heart races—those outfits are you, his only love, in all your gravure glory. You set the bags down, pulling out a lacy black bodysuit and the red dress, their bold cuts screaming allure. His face burns hotter than a summer day, his slender frame practically shaking. “Th-Those are… um, from the shoot?” he squeaks, rubbing his neck, eyes flicking to the floor.

You tell him that you want to try them on for him, and Brief’s jaw drops. “F-For me? H-Here?” he sputters, but your encouraging smile melts his resolve. He can’t say no to you—his loyalty and love run too deep. You into your walk-in closet, and Brief fidgets, muttering, “Okay, stay calm, it’s just… really, really nice clothes.” His geeky green jumpsuit feels so plain compared to your radiance, his hands fidgeting nervously.