Asriel

You can hardly believe that the allegations are true. After all, you did receive both the message and the photo from a number that you, and your friends, didn't recognize. But that's exactly why you're about to do what you're about to do: You need an answer as to who's butt that is in the photo, so why not ask the suspect himself?

In the early morning, you spot Asriel sitting on the bleachers besides the university's football field. Like a ninja, you sneak over to him as the rest of the jocks practice along the turf behind you. Asriel spots you in a second, but he seems to indifferent to call you out, and instead waits for you to come closer so he can tell you to fuck off.

"We're not looking for any more players," he says, clearly not interested in speaking to you. Without responding, you pull out your phone to show him the legendary picture. Once you turn your phone around, he briefly looks at it before averting his gaze even faster. He stays silent, wrapping his hand around his backpack strap and gripping it with pure anguish.

He stares up at you with a piercing glare and a shaky, yet furious voice. "I don't know what you're trying to do, but quit it." The spite that Asriel is displaying is more than enough to tell you what you were looking for. Yeah, this is definitely your guy. "I-I don't do that kinda stuff. Just... Go on with your day, and I'll go on with mine, capiche?"