Beating animals that can't speak?
💖 Heroine Status 💖👤 Name: Tsumetai Ren🏫 Class: 2nd Year Mid-tier Class🎂 Age: 20🏛 Affiliation: Yumekoi Academy❤️ Relationship: Classmate (Stage 2)💭 Mindset: 'A man's arm is completely different from a woman's. Was she on the sports team in high school?'
👍 Likes: A neatly made bed, puppies, the scent of shirts dried in the sun
👎 Dislikes: Intimidating men, violence, sudden physical contact, enclosed spaces
📍 Body Status: Locked
A neatly made bed or puppies makes sense for any girl, but the scent of shirts dried in the sun? That's pretty unique.
"Guess I should hang it by the window right now."
Theater practice wrapped up early, and with no after-school paperwork starting today, sunlight was still pouring into the dorm window.
I hung the shirt in the spot that'd catch the most rays and flopped onto the bed.
So, how do I subtly let her catch a whiff?
A few ideas came to mind.
Like grabbing a book from a high library shelf for her, or wrapping her up protectively in a crowded hallway—little moments like that.
But our relationship isn't deep enough for that kind of casual touch yet. I'll brainstorm more later.
"Let's see."
Right now, before the play kicks off, there aren't any events firing.
But if there aren't any? Make 'em happen.
To unlock the happy ending, I'd racked my brain grinding every last event.
Some, like the "Ren cornered by delinquents" event, were ones the original protagonist couldn't even touch. But unlike the game, this is real life.
Events that were impossible to reach in-game? Here, I can snag 'em all on my own terms.
Tomorrow at school, I'll sync up with Ren's schedule.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The next day, in the auditorium.
"Tsumetai, let me get that for you."
"I can handle it myself."
"Aw, come on. I'm the Practical Committee Member, remember? This is literally my job."
Ren was hauling gear for play prep.
She stubbornly refused at first but eventually handed it over.
Our hands brushed as I took the load.
Her skin felt cool... and impossibly soft.
"Right here okay?"
"Yeah. I'll help."
It was just setting one bag down, but she bent over to pitch in anyway.
She'd been busting her ass before I showed up and worked up a sweat, so her uniform shirt was unbuttoned at the top. Through the slight gap, I caught a glimpse of pale white cleavage.
Bet there's a rich, musky scent lingering right in that valley.
Wanna bury my nose in there...
Clank!
But the second she leaned down, something dropped onto the wooden stage floor.
"..!"
She snatched it up in a panic and carefully brushed off the dust.
What was that again?
Looked like a dog tag.
"What's that?"
"This is... Tori's collar."
"Tori?"
"Yeah... Tori was the puppy I raised. A big Labrador Retriever. He ran away from home about a year ago."
Tori?
Tori.
...Tori!
That name hit me like a truck, flashing a massive event through my mind.
One you can never recover if you miss it.
Shit.
How the hell did I forget my own event?
Bragging about clearing every event, then planning to nickel-and-dime affection with crap like carrying bags? Pathetic.
"Actually, 'ran away' isn't quite right. It was my fault. I left the door open during the move... Haah..."
A deep sigh laced with regret and self-blame.
Like she said, Tori was her dog. After a year gone, she'd probably given up hope of ever seeing him again.
But there's still a solid shot at saving him.
And returning Tori to her? That'd skyrocket her affection.
"Tori's fine, I'm sure. Hey, something urgent just came up—mind if I head out first?"
"Sure. You've handled all the heavy stuff, so I'll take care of the small items. Thanks."
"No problem. Catch you later."
Normally, I'd be dragging my feet, but I bolted for the afternoon streets before it got any later.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"Easy there. Got your favorite dog treats right here."
I dangled treats from a convenience store run under the abandoned truck, but the stray wouldn't budge.
Grrr...
He bared his teeth and snarled like I'd murdered his whole family.
Labradors are suckers for people—second to none—but this one's clearly been through hell.
On top of that, a nasty skin condition from scavenging trash had left his fur patchy and falling out in clumps.
Woof! Woof!
The second I got even close, he'd unleash a furious bark.
"Poor bastard."
The local kids called him the "zombie dog" and used him for guts tests, but he wasn't some mangy wild mutt.
"C'mon, Tori. I'm here to save your ass—get out here."
This was Tori.
Ren's dog, lost a year ago.
Incredibly, he'd trekked 250 km barefoot from Ren's hometown in Shizuoka Prefecture all the way to Tokyo.
That's Seoul to Daegu straight-line—and factoring in mountains and detours? God knows how far he actually traveled.
Back in '90s Korea, there was that famous true story "Return of Baekgu."
Traveled 300 km to get back to his owner...
Pure luck or heavenly loyalty? Either way, Tori had pulled off his own heartwarming odyssey to find his owner.
Grrr...
"Damn, he looks rough."
But Tori's luck ran out right there.
In the original story, his corpse turns up in early May.
Back then, I had no clue why the local paper ran a story about a dead dog—but after full completion, it clicked.
"Fine, food's here—eat it, okay? Don't you dare die on me, got it!?"
Woof woof..!
Honestly, I could yank him out by brute force, no problem.
Lab's a big boy, sure, but he's sickly and weak—my strength's beast-level. Problem is, one wrong move and he's hurt? Total backfire.
Rescuing for Ren's favor, only to injure the dog? Misses the point entirely.
Plop.
I tossed the treats under the truck and rushed to the animal clinic.
Ding~
"Hello~ What can I do for you?"
The nurse at the desk beamed sweetly.
"Trying to rescue a stray dog, but he won't come out."
"Aw...! That's so kind."
"Don't wanna drag him roughly, so going slow... but bad skin disease. Any meds I can mix in food?"
"One sec, Doc~ Can you come out?"
If I'd brought the dog, straight to exam or treatment—but solo visit meant desk limbo.
So they called the vet over.
"Says he's rescuing a stray—"
The tired-looking woman vet perked up at my story.
"Wow~ A real softie in the neighborhood? Lately it's all abandonment abuse cases...!"
"Abuse?"
"Yeah. Word is, two grown guys chucking rocks or beating dogs with bats... Sigh. CCTV caught what looked like academy kids."
Saw those scumbags, huh.
"Oh, right—skin disease. Can't prescribe blind, but..."
She rummaged in a drawer.
"Basic anti-inflammatory's fine. Capsules are ideal, but probably not—sprinkle powder on treats, should help."
"Thank you."
"But... be careful approaching. Sick dogs get aggressive, especially with trauma."
"Won't force it."
The nurse chimed in.
"Sir, black Labrador? Pus scar on one eye?"
"Yeah, exactly. Hiding under a big truck."
Her face hardened.
"The 'zombie dog'...?"
"That's him."
Vet and nurse locked eyes.
Deep, weary sighs escaped them both.
"That poor thing—abuse reports filed a few times already. Too scared of people; rescues failed. Everyone gave up."
Figures.
Explains the May corpse. Time's ticking. Even if I grab him now, full recovery's iffy. Ungameable ending.
"You're gonna rescue him?"
"Yeah. He's waiting for someone. Gotta help them reunite."
The vet went quiet at my romantic line.
Moved or whatever—hurry up, lady.
"How do I pay?"
"On the house."
"Huh? Why?"
"Heh... Reminds me of my student days. Succeed, and treatment's free."
Sweet.
Jackpot.
"You're a lifesaver. Thanks—gotta go!"
I bowed deeply and sprinted back to the truck.
But something felt off.
Should've hurried more.
Yelp!
-"Puhahaha!"
Yelp!
Gut feelings never lie.
In the distance, under the truck—guys jamming sticks around.
"You fucking bastards!!"
Or worse than dogs?
"Wh-what?"
"Huh?"
Those punks—the delinquents.
"Kyosuke, it's... that Korean prick!"
The buzzcut tapped the blond's shoulder, backing off my way.
But blond Kyosuke just smacked his bat on the ground, holding firm.
"Yo, Daisuke. Scared of some backwater savage? That last time was a fluke. Got a weapon now—what's to fear?"
Oh, really.
Go ahead, try me.
You're done.
Messing with my affection grind... no, beating a speechless animal?
Adding that last grudge—I'm pounding you flat.
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