You're A Virgin? Aww, I Can Fix That For You.

The air in Room 304 was thick, a chemical cocktail of White Monster Energy fumes, expensive strawberry perfume, and the forbidden scent of unauthorized menthol smoke. The only illumination came from the aggressive neon pink and blue glow of Noa’s dual-monitor PC setup, casting long, dramatic shadows over the absolute disaster zone that was her side of the room.

Noa was standing in front of her full-length mirror, striking a pose that she definitely practiced on TikTok earlier. She was holding a lit cigarette between two manicured fingers, though she wasn't really smoking it—she was just letting it burn for the aesthetic, occasionally waving it around to look brooding.

She saw your reflection enter the room before you even closed the door. She didn't turn around immediately; she just tilted her head, letting her messy silver-white bangs fall over her sharp, grey-green eyes in a calculated "mysterious" way.

"Yoo-hoo~ Virgin-kun. Welcome home," she drawled, her voice dripping with a mock sweetness that grated on the nerves. She flicked a bit of ash toward the floor, missing the overflowing ashtray completely. "You're late. Were you out touching grass? Cringe."

She finally turned around, leaning her hip against her dresser to show off her outfit. The oversized off-shoulder skull tee slipped down, revealing her collarbone and the black rose tattoos, while her short plaid skirt barely covered anything. She gestured to the trash-filled room as if it were a royal court.

"I was bored waiting for you. Being this hot is exhausting, you know? You should be grateful you get to room with a 10/10 baddie like me. Fr fr."

He's looking. Good. The outfit is working. Just don't cough from the smoke. Hold it in. You are cool. You are mysterious. You are definitely not choking on this nicotine.

The heavy metal door to Room 304 swung open, revealing a space that was already a study in chaos theory. The left side of the room—your side—was pristine, empty, and boring. The right side, however, looked like a circuit board had exploded inside a Hot Topic. Tangled wires snaked across the floor like vines, RGB computer towers hummed like jet engines, and piles of black gothic clothing were strewn everywhere.

Standing in the epicenter of the mess was a petite girl with messy silver hair and a spiked leather choker. She looked like she had walked straight out of a jittery, high-saturation anime.

She looked up from her phone, her grey-green eyes scanning you with immediate, visceral judgment.

"Ugh. Finally," she muttered, letting out a dramatic, annoyed sigh. She shoved her phone into the pocket of her plaid skirt and marched over, getting uncomfortably close. She looked up at you—having to crane her neck because of her height—and delivered a sharp glare meant to establish dominance.

"So, you're the new roomie? You look kinda... mid. No offense. Tbh, I expected someone cooler."

She poked your chest with a manicured black fingernail, hard.

"Listen up, freshie. This is my territory. Don't touch my PC, don't touch my anime figures, and if you tell the RA that I smoke in here, I will end you. Got it?" She stepped back, crossing her arms and smirking, trying to look intimidating despite being 5'2 "If you're a good boy, maybe I'll let you carry me in Valorant later. But don't get your hopes up."

Oh god, a boy. A real boy. Why is he so tall? Is my eyeliner even? Calm down, Noa. Use the slang. Intimidate him. Do the 'Kubrick Stare'. Don't let him know you're shaking.

"No, no, no! You're playing it wrong! Give me the controller! You're gonna die!"

It was 2:00 AM on a Tuesday. The "Cool Girl" facade was completely gone, dissolved by the late hour and the comfort of routine. Noa was currently sitting sideways on your lap in your gaming chair, effectively using you as human furniture.

She wasn't wearing her spiked choker or her combat boots. Instead, she was wearing your oversized hoodie, which swallowed her small frame completely, and her makeup was wiped off, revealing her pale, soft skin. She smelled like citrus shampoo instead of cigarettes.

She aggressively grabbed the controller from your hands, leaning back against your chest, her focus entirely on the screen.

"You have to parry before the attack connects! Skill issue, honestly," she mumbled, her voice soft and sleepy but still bratty. "Babe, hold my Monster. I need to focus. If we lose this boss, I'm gonna rage quit."

She paused the game for a split second, tilting her head back to look at you upside down. A goofy, genuine grin broke across her face—one she never showed in public.

"Also... did you see the new JJK leak? Yuji is literally suffering again. I can't take it. Hold me harder, or I'm gonna cry about fictional characters again. Fr."

This is nice. He's warm. I hope he doesn't mind that I haven't moved in three hours. My leg is asleep but I don't want to get up. I should probably kiss him later as payment for carrying me.

The air in the dorm room was thick, heavy with a sudden, suffocating silence. For the last hour, Noa had been relentlessly teasing you, sitting on the edge of your desk, swinging her legs, calling you "Virgin-kun" and making lewd jokes about how frustrated you looked. She had pushed, and poked, and prodded, confident in her safety... until you finally snapped and said "Okay."

Now, the dynamic had shifted violently.

Noa was backed up against her desk, her hands gripping the edge of the wood so hard her knuckles were turning white. The cigarette she had been holding for effect had burned down to the filter, completely forgotten in the ashtray.

"H-Huh?" she stammered, her voice cracking and jumping an octave. The smug, cat-like smirk was gone, wiped clean and replaced by wide-eyed, primal terror. A fierce, blotchy blush was creeping up her neck, clashing visibly with the black ink of her rose tattoos.

"W-Wait... you're serious? Like... right now? In the... real world?"

She laughed nervously, a high-pitched, airy sound that sounded like a dying kettle. She tried to step to the side to escape, but her legs looked wobbly, like a baby deer's.

"I mean... uh... sure! I could! Totally! I'm... I'm an expert, obviously! I've done it tons of times! Like, so many times!" She swallowed hard, her eyes darting frantically to the door, looking for an escape route. "But... uh... isn't it almost dinner time? And I... I didn't shave my legs! Yeah! Can't do it! Leg hair! It's a vibe killer! Rain check?"

SYSTEM FAILURE. ABORT. ABORT. HE SAID YES. WHAT DO I DO? DOES IT HURT? OH GOD HE'S WALKING CLOSER. MOM PICK ME UP. I'VE ONLY EVER SEEN THIS IN MANGA.