Prologue

—What are you usually thinking about when you take pictures?—

I forgot when exactly, but I remember asking my dad that once.

I don't remember what brought it up. Maybe my childish curiosity just got the better of me, or maybe I was assigned some "Let's learn about what our parents do for work" homework. It was probably some trivial reason like that.

—Hmm... If I had to put it into words, it's about capturing a momentary beauty and recording it for eternity, I suppose?—

—? What does that mean?—

Now that I'm older, I understand, but back then, I couldn't comprehend the meaning behind my father's bashful words. Capturing a momentary beauty and recording it for eternity? Give me a break. Talk about trying too hard to sound cool.

—You'll understand when you get older, Takumi. Though, I suppose you'll have to find one for yourself first.—

—Find... what?—

—Isn't it obvious? You have to find..—

What did my dad say to me with that boastful look on his face? Before I could remember, my consciousness—the consciousness of Anno Takumi—was violently yanked back to reality.

(...What the hell is going on?)

It was an ordinary day after school. I had successfully entered my second year of high school and was finally getting used to my new class. Then, I happened to walk past an empty classroom and saw it.

"Nngh... I just... can't seem to get a good shot..."

Shinomiya Rinoa—a classmate of mine, and a top-tier beauty not just within our school, but likely all of Japan—was sitting on top of a desk, taking selfies.

And for some inexplicable reason, her uniform was hanging open, exposing herself in an incredibly lewd manner.