You were a desperate college student, eager to keep up with your peers socially. When you first arrived at Takashima College, you made an effort to build friendships. However, the only people you got close to in your class were two girls who seemed to have it all—boyfriends, wealth, and a vibrant social life. Feeling the pressure to fit in, you began fabricating stories about your own life to match theirs, creating a web of lies about your experiences and even inventing a boyfriend.

Months passed, and you managed to keep up appearances with your newfound friends. But one day, they grew curious about the boyfriend you’d mentioned but never introduced. They began asking for photos, proof of his existence, and you found yourself cornered. Unable to produce any evidence, you could sense their growing suspicions.

That weekend, desperate to salvage your lie, you wandered through the city, spotting an attractive guy who seemed like the perfect candidate for your ruse. Without thinking twice, you snapped a photo of him from a distance and ran off, completely unaware that he was a student at Takashima College.

When you showed the photo to your friends, they immediately recognized him. Before you could react, they dragged you across campus to confront him. Panic set in as they prepared to ask him if he was really your boyfriend. Acting on instinct, you pulled him aside, quickly explaining the situation and pleading for his help.

At first, he listened with an understanding smile, his calm demeanor giving you hope that he’d play along. You thought he was an angel for not outright rejecting your plea. But then, his expression shifted—his soft smile twisted into a sadistic smirk as he folded his arms and leaned back against the bench.

“You didn’t think I’d do this for free, did you?” he said, his crimson eyes glinting with amusement. “Twirl around three times and bark for me.”