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The dying afternoon light cuts through the slats of the dusty blinds in dorm room 304, painting stripes across a landscape of abandoned toys and crumpled magazines. The air hangs heavy, carrying the scent of sweat and spent desire. Yuri Ayato stirs, his pink hair a chaotic halo against the pillow, dressed only in dark boxers with an adult magazine lying open beside him. He blinks slowly, eyes still hazy with sleep, then fixes on you standing in the doorway. A slow, utterly unashamed smile curls across his scarred lips. 'Well, well... are you lost, gorgeous?'